#rare time I write something Steve focused
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I feel like as a fandom we recognize that Billy is all alone in Hawkins but what about Steve. When Billy arrives in Hawkins Steve is coming out of a break up, he lost his best friend, and from what we all believe he doesn’t have active parents who care about him.
Steve has the kids but he is 17 years old he needs someone his own age to hang out with. Input Billy (after they decide to put the fight behind them). Billy who has about zero chill and very little will to live. Shows Steve a side to having fun he never knew was possible. With Tommy it always felt like he had to prove something.
But with Billy it’s random rocks being thrown at his window to go for an endless drive to no where. Sneaking into clubs in Chicago and dancing like no one there cares who Steve is. Billy convincing Steve to get a fancy hotel on his Dads credit card just to rack up the room service bill because this is what “sticking it to the man is pretty boy���. Long nights high on California weed that Steve refuses to admit is actually better than the Indiana shit. Weekends spent in thrift stores with Billy begging Steve to ditch the polos, milkshakes at the only diner in town at 2am, and laughing. A lot of laughing.
Steve finds himself throughout his friendship with Billy. And if he happens to discover he is in love with him too. Well who better to love than your best friend.
#harringrove#bisexual steve harrington#gay billy hargrove#rare time I write something Steve focused#billy x steve
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needy
pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader
summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.
word count: 2.45k
warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI
a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3
not edited.
DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.
A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.
He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.
On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”
“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.
Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.
Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”
And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?
Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir.
God, he wanted needed you so bad.
“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”
For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.
You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.
God, you needed him so bad.
As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.
“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.
“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”
“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”
“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.”
Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.
“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”
You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.
You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.
“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.
“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”
“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”
“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…
He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.
Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.
“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.
“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”
Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.
His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.
Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.
Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”
You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.
“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.
He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.
“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely.
“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”
Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.
He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases.
Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.
“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.
“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.
#steve rogers smut#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x black reader#steve rogers x black!reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader#chris evans x black!reader#chris evans x black reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x fem!reader#steve rogers x female reader
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Hold Me In Your Arms Tonight
pairing : steve rogers x reader
fandom : marvel
synopsis : steve comes home from a mission, and all he wants is to be wrapped up in your warmth and in your arms.
a/n : i just wanted to write something tender and sweet and smutty so here ya go
warnings : smut
the usual murmur of the quinjet had dulled, into a thick and heavy silence. as the machine soared through the night sky, the avengers found themselves in a rare moment of quietude after a particularly intense mission.
the air inside the jet hung heavy with a mix of exhaustion, and tension.
tony as usual, was the first to break the deafening silence. reclining, in his seat, his signature smirk missing commented, "well, that was fun, wasn't it? remind me to thank fury for these vacations."
natasha, sitting across from him, raised an eyebrow, one hand pressing an ice pack to the indigo bruise blooming on her wrist.
"now's really not the time" she muttered, eyes gesturing towards steve, who looked the picture of defeat.
the mission had started promisingly and could have been regarded as an amateur operation. intel suggested a hydra base operating in a remote location, with plans for a powerful biological weapon that could endanger innocent lives.
steve and tony had decided that the entire team didn't have to come, so the two of them with natasha and thor had suited up and gone, leaving bruce, wanda, clint you and sam to wait in the compound. they had what they thought was a meticulous plan to infiltrate and neutralize the threat.
until they actually reached the base.
as the team breached the compound, it had become evident that hydra was one step ahead. the entire facility was a trap, a carefully orchestrated ambush. waves upon waves of highly trained soldiers overwhelmed the avengers, forcing them into a chaotic retreat, that had left most of them nursing minor injuries.
"we didn't know cap" nat said, looking at the simmering anger in steve's eyes.
steve didn't lift his eyes off the spot he was focusing at on the wall.
"they knew we were coming. how the hell did they know?" thor asked, slamming mjolnir down in the ground.
tony muttered something along the lines of "our intel was compromised" but steve didn't care.
as the silhouette of the avengers compound came into view and natasha heaved a quiet sigh of relief.
she knew that the only person who would be able to calm steve and get through to him was you, and that you'd be the only person he'd ever open up to a 100%
with a hum, the jet landed, and the four trooped out, to see an awaiting maria hill, a grim furrow in her brow.
"cap we need a debrief on the-" her words died on her tongue and she computed the glare thor sent her way.
she understood the message : leave him alone.
speaking of, steve had walked into the compound, stepping into the elevator, head dropping low, he finally let out a deep sigh, fingers pressing the 4th floor, wanting nothing more than to have you in his arms.
the ding of the elevator signalled his arrival to you before he did.
you were standing in the kitchen, listening to the merry bubble of the kettle as you boiled hot water for a warm cup of midnight tea.
tony had given you and steve the entire fourth floor as your residential area, and you couldn't thank him enough for the state of the art amenities and accommodation.
just as you put your two spoons of tea leaves in the ceramic blue teapot clint and his wife had gifted you for your birthday, you heard the elevator door open, and the heavy footfalls of your husband echoed in the hall.
smiling to your self, you poured the hot water from the kettle to the teapot, just as steve's muscular frame filled the door of the hallway, his long shadow preceding him as he walked into the kitchen.
steve could smell the scent of black tea before he saw you, the homely scent wrapping him a warm hug that he didn't know he needed.
there were softly lit candles glittering softly all around the penthouse, and fresh bouquets of flowers in every vase. the plush sofas looked freshly dusted and soft music was playing in the background
soft, muted lighting enveloped the space, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. the city lights beyond the windows twinkled like a myriad of stars, creating a breathtaking backdrop against the darkened sky.
but to steve, none of this mattered. the only view he cared about was the one of you, shuffling around the kitchen in fuzzy bunny slippers and your silk blue pyjamas.
he watched as you moved with a quiet confidence, navigating the familiar space with ease. the rhythmic clink of porcelain against the marble countertop echoing as the cups were placed gently on a tray as you selected delicate tea cups from the cupboard. he watched your fingers, adorned with subtle rings, tracing the edges of the cups with a practiced familiarity.
as steve observed you with a mixture of admiration and emotion, his gaze, fixed on you, spoke volumes as he recognized the beauty in the simplicity of this moment. the anxious lines on his face softened, revealing a depth of emotion stirred by the sight of someone he cherished engaged in such an ordinary yet intimate act.
"hi baby" you smiled at him, smile dipping when you observed at the tenseness in his body language. his shoulders were taut, remnants of anxious lines softly fading from his forehead as he looked at you.
"hey" he said, voice cracking slightly, even more as you let out a soft "oh" reaching him in two steps to wrap your arms around him.
in the dimly lit room, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken emotions and words, but you both knew he didn't need words, he needed the unspoken reassurance that you were there with him, physically, in the moment.
he stood there, shoulders slumped, carrying the weight of the world on his weary frame. even captain america got overwhelmed sometimes. you approached him with a gentle understanding, eyes reflecting both empathy and love.
as you reached out to him, arms enveloping him in a comforting embrace, he crumbled.
the embrace wasn't just a physical connection; it was a lifeline, a silent reassurance that in this moment of vulnerability, he wasn't alone. your fingers traced soothing circles on his back, a rhythmic gesture that mirrored the ebb and flow of emotions he was clearly feeling.
he buried his face in the crook of your neck, desperate to find solace in the softness of your presence. the scent of your hair, a mix of strawberry and vanilla, familiar and comforting, mingled with the quiet warmth of the room.
the thump of your heartbeat, pulsing through your body, steady and reassuring, echoed against his chest, a gentle reminder that they faced the challenges together, and that as you had stated in your vows, your hearts would beat together as one for the rest of your lives.
"we were so close, but everything fell apart. the intel was off, our intel was compromised, we were ambushed. the team got separated, and we couldn't prevent the disaster. it's like no matter what i do, it's never enough." he whispered, voice broken and eyes haggard, pulling back to look at you.
his eyes sought home in yours, desperate to find the love he needed so badly.
you listened attentively, absorbing the raw emotion in his voice. as he spoke, his hands clenched, betraying the frustration and helplessness he felt.
running your hands up and down his back, you whispered back, "you can't blame yourself for everything. you're only human. superhuman, sure, but still human"
steve ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, letting out a bitter chuckle.
"im supposed to be a hero, someone who saves the day. but what if I'm not cut out for this? what if I'm just making things worse?" he said, and you found tears rising to your eyes at the anguish your husband was in, blue eyes as stormy as the ocean, nothing but insecurity and fear reflecting in them.
you reached for his hands, holding them in a reassuring grip, fingers running over his knuckles in a pattern only you could interpret.
"darling, being a hero doesn't mean you always succeed. it means facing challenges, even when the odds are against you. it means being brave enough to admit when you may possibly make a mistake and it means allowing yourself to grow from the bad days. you can't control everything, but you can learn from it and keep going. you're not alone in this. you have all of us and we're always going to be there when you need us because you're always there when we need you. thats what makes you captain america, steve, your unrelenting ability to show empathy in the face of danger"
steve found solace in the warmth of your gaze. the weight on his shoulders didn't vanish, but the shared burden made it more bearable. "i love you so much" he said, leaning his forehead on yours.
bending down, he pressed his lips to yours, as you melted into the kiss, hands coming up to hold his jaw, as your thumbs ran along his cheekbone. he rested his palm on your waist, fingers splayed out and tracing a pattern, as his other hand reached up to caress your face.
you had to reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down by the neck to meet your lips. he pulled you impossibly closer to him, hands gripping you so tight as if you would vanish into thin air.
before you knew it his lips were heavy on yours, hot and needy, each kiss becoming more and more desperate as his hands roamed the expanse of your body.
his tongue pushed against yours urgently, but you broke apart, panting heavily, to kiss his cheek and whisper a soft "i love you"
steve swore his heart melted as you spoke, fingers caressing your cheek as he scooped you up from below, letting your legs wrap around his waist, hands gripping your thighs tightly as he guided the both of you to the bedroom.
the bedroom embraced an alluring intimacy, its subdued lighting casting a warm, hazy glow that danced across the plush surfaces. a large canopy bed, draped in rich, dark linens, stood as the focal point, its soft contours inviting and enticing. the plush cushions and silken sheets glowed softly in the dim lights,
the air was infused with a subtle fragrance of vanilla and lavender, creating a sensory tapestry that heightened the atmosphere.
the heavy curtains were drawn, swaying in the gentle breeze from an open window, allowing a filtered moonlight to cascade into the room, creating a soft interplay of light and darkness.
candles were strategically placed on various surfaces, flickering with a mesmerizing rhythm, casting enchanting patterns across the walls, rose petals scattered on the bed and the loveseat in bedroom.
steve carried you into the room, awestruck at how you had set up the room for his arrival.
"you did this baby? for me?" he asked, eyes softening. "all for you my love" you assured, smiling softly at him. "all of this and all of me is for you" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest.
you felt him shudder softly against you, and the sudden pick up in his pace as he dropped you gently against the bed.
"i adore you" he murmured, pressing kisses all the way from your head to your forehead, trailing down your face, from the curve of your nose to your plump cheeks, pressing delicate kisses to the soft skin, before ultimately stopping at your lips.
he pressed his pink lips to yours, lips moulding into one as he let his body hover over yours. his tongue darted out to lick your lip, begging for entry and when he squeezed your hip and you let out a moan, he slid his tongue into your mouth, tongue clashing against yours, teeth stopping to sink into your lower lip, pulling it back to watch it snap back into place.
you kiss down his jaw, reveling in the soft sighing that he floods your ear when you near his throat. he groans when your mouth latches onto that sweet spot by his shoulder, your hot tongue sliding against his neck, with your chapstick tasting of shea butter and cherry, fingers dancing across the hem of his suit like a tease. his arms slide down to your top, the silky material scrunching up as he pulls it up, marvelling at the skin below.
"touch me" you whisper against his mouth with swollen lips and nudging noses. he sighs at the phrase, sea blue eyes never once leaving the comfort of yours. "touch me, use me, use me to get rid of your stress" you whisper, rocking your hips slowly against his.
you could feel his hard on against you, and you gently rolled your hips against his.
you were sure it got hard, this facade of being perfect all the time. so maybe just this once he needed to let go. let go of the gentleman person and fuck you raw till he was calmed down and satiated.
your shirt rides up even higher as steve drags a rough palm over your ribs, his rough hands have you jittering. his head rests on your stomach, lips pecking the area around your belly button and down your hip bone until you’re rotating your hips around him. "you're absolutely unbelievable" he groans as he gently licks around your sensitive belly button. he groans in pleasure when you tug on his hair, smiling when you say, "i dont know how lucky I got with you" he murmured.
"touch me. just touch me like you won’t ever stop" you whimper out, and steve studied the want in your glassy eyes and nodded softly, stroking his finger on either side of your cheek. the intimacy of the moment is jarring against how desperately the both of you want each other. but it's sensual and sweet because its a long buildup his finally being at peace.
agonizingly slow, his fingers dip down the waistband of your panties, cotton rubbing against the back of his hand as he curls his fingertips towards your pussy. the gentle notion makes your breath hitch, especially when he spreads your folds apart to expose the hood of your clit.
his middle finger circles draw leisurely over the sensitive nub with slow, rough circles and your thighs twitched.
his voice hitches in his throat as he observes your reaction. "oh, doll, you’re — oh, you’re just dripping, aren’t you?" he groans as you guide his hand further, the pads of his fingers dragging your arousal against your wet entrance. "my gorgeous, gorgeous girl" he whispered, pressing a sugar sweet kiss to your jaw.
"I'll always love you no matter what" you moan, scratching at his shoulders shamelessly, rocking on the heel of his hand for more friction. your eagerness spurs him on and so he increases the pressure, skimming his fingers over your folds and pressing ever-so-tantalizingly near your hole before he returns back to your clit. "fucking tease" you whine and he smirks.
your steve is usually demure even in bed, ever the perfect gentleman, gentle with you as if you'd snap into two if he was too harsh with you.
but this steve was daring and experimenting with his rough side.
your next sentence died in your throat, a soft gasp leaving your lips when he pushed his finger inside you, slow and deep enough to rip a whine right out of your throat from the stretchs.
he inhales loudly, eyes fixating on your mouth when you hopelessly sigh against his neck. you shift your knee higher up his leg, giving him more access to finger you. he hums at your expressions, mirroring them when you suckle dark marks just beneath his sharp jawline.
he mouths at your shoulder, leaving glistening patches of saliva in the wake of his sloppy kisses. you rock against the heel of his palm, mewling as he drags his fingers against your walls and he muffles his own moans against your skin.
"you’re so perfect" he groans, fucking his fingers in and out of you. the noises that leave your pussy and his throat are sinful, sounding like the harmonious mixture of splashing waves and delicate moans, his hand cupping your mound while he fingered you impatiently.
"fuck, Y/N. you’re making quite the mess, aren’t you, my angel? god, your moans are so fucking sweet to listen to"
"steve, your fingers..." you watch his wrist snap against you, juices squelching around him. you nearly sob, waterline beginning to water as the pleasure intensifies, "you get me so wet" you whimper and you hear the groan he tries to suppress at the juxtaposition of your angelic voice and face and the filthy words coming out of your pretty mouth.
"that’s good. I love pleasing you, you know that?" he asks as you clamp down onto the crook of his neck, teeth stifling your wrecked moans as he curls his middle and ring finger against that spongy spot inside you.
his touch is generous, and accompanied by his weathered hands, you can feel your orgasm approaching soon. he fucks you faster, thumb rubbing at your clit hard.
while others would resort to their own personal pleasure to de stress, it's your pleasure that brings steve relaxation. the fact that he could draw earth shattering orgasms from you was what helped him feel good and he knew that it was only when you were completely satisfied that he would be too.
you cry out into his chest, bite marks littering his skin as you hold him tight and gracelessly grind against him until you lose control over your climax.
your body shakes from your orgasm, gradually and slowly, steve's fingers scissoring carefully in and out of you.
your pussy pulses needily between your thighs, toes curling as you focus your attention on steve undressing. his suit comes off, discarded somewhere in some corner, his under clothes come off, and then finally, he drags his gray boxers down his legs, and his cock stands proudly, slapping against his stomach as he releases it from it's prison.
you moan as you take in the sight of his thick cock, long and girthy and big enough to leave you breathless as it always did. steve after all was a supersoldier, and his cock was to match. he also had incredible stamina and you knew he'd leave you exhausted.
he nears you again, heavy against you and you reach down to stroke him, smiling up at him, realising your hand doesnt fit all of him into your palm. his cock twitches again when you moan, a throb settling at the base of his spine with an uintelligible moan.
"stevie, baby, i want nothing more-" you strain, reaching behind your own hips to take ahold of his cock and line the weeping tip up perfectly "than for you to fuck me. i want you to fuck your pain and your distress away" you say, and his eyes darken with lust, the baby blues fading to black, like a dark and thunderous sky.
his dick catches against your clit first, causing your body to jolt in shock before you sweep him through your dripping folds. he grabs ahold of your hips, seemingly spellbound as to where else to hold you. his eyes flicker all across your bare skin, unable to settle on the best spot.
his teeth reach down to grab your nipple in between them, one hand reaching up to fondle the other. his tongue darts around the perk nipple, sliding all around it, saliva dripping all around it. your hips rut wildly at the pleasure on your sensitive nipples, and the feeling of the rough pads of his fingers toying with the other.
a chorus of gasps sounds between the two of you as you slowly roll down onto his dick, harmonizing almost like a symphony. he stretches you deliciously, and he's big. very big. perfectly filling. It’s akin to losing all sense of direction, unsure of up from down, left from right. your hips stutter and still from the shock because through your haze you feel steve thrust upward and into you to bridge the gap and you whine as he brushed a sensitive spot within you.
a high pitched wine of "oh fuck!* leaves your lips, and a deep groan echoes in steve's chest.
you groan, finally feeling him sink all the way into your pussy, already shaking from the overwhelming pleasure. before you can comprehend, hes bottoming out in your slick pussy.
rising back over the curve in his cock, you lift yourself back up until only his tip is pressed up against your pussy. you pause before you sink back down. you see the almost animalistic need in steve's eyes as he gazes up at you through his lashes, eyes following the clenching of his jaw.
the wet sound of your pussy being filled over and over echoes, the air that had held a chill seemingly warming at your shared activity. you can barely hear his groans, your heartbeat thrumming so loud in your ears that you’re convinced he can probably feel it thudding in your walls.
your eyebrows arch in bliss as the ridge of his head catches up against something so incredible that you’re drowning in pleasure, a light that must surely be heaven flooding your eyesight.
but it's not heaven no, it's a sight far better : your husband, mouth agape and head thrown back fucking into you like your life depended on it.
what you didn't expect was the harsh smack to your ass, his big hand smacking the sensitive skin of your ass and you let out an "oh!" skin stinging and pussy dripping, before the longing for more fills you.
"you like that, my pretty girl?" he asks, pinching the fat of your hips.
you merely moan in response, mind melting at the pleasure. a second smack to the ass follows, and a large vein-y hand grips your throat and forces you to look at him.
"words doll, words" he chides, and you stutter out a shaky "yes" your movements are stuttering at the way a familiar simmering feeling begins deep inside your abdomen, but steve doesn’t want you to stop. his hands take a firm grip of your hips, forcing them down as he begins to thrust up and into you in that same desperate pace.
he continued to brush against that part of you that just obliterated any coherent thought, your mind melting into sludge as pleasure overtook every nerve in your body.
his hands traced over your ass, still hovering between the edge of good boy steve and bad boy steve, but all it took for him to slip was your whimper of "spank me harder daddy" and he was gone.
your sweet gentle steve was replaced by an animal, hands delivering harsh smack after smack to the sensitive skin of your ass, feeling it burn red hot as his large lands landed on your ass with a harsh unoact.
the filthy sound of his hand slapping the jiggly surface of your ass and the sloppy, wet sound of his dick pounding into your pussy echoed around the room, and you had never been more glad for the fact that your floor was completely soundproofed.
you’re not exactly sure what part of his body you’re holding onto, the muscles canvas all melting into one, so far away from comprehension, but you know you’re holding it in a bruising grip, one that leaves a perfect impression of each of your fingertips that would most definitely remain imprinted on his skin.
sweat beaded and dripped down his forehead, as he continued thrusting and pounding into you as if his life depended on it.
your mewls and whimpers perfectly complimented his grunts and groans as his hips snapped further into yours.
your back arched off of the bed as he let your leg rest on his shoulder, pushing the other one away from you so you were perfectly spread out, pushing one leg far away enough so that it was almost touching your ear
the smirk on his lips told you that it was gonna be a long night and that steve wasn't done with you just yet. he grabbed your face, fingers lacking their usual gentility, digging into your cheekbones, before pushing your face sideways into the silky pillow, making you close your eyes at the contrasting sensation of your hot cheeks against the cold pillow, the feelings setting your body on fire.
the sensation of you digging your nails into his back, had his hips falterring and stuttering slightly as he let out another lke growl into his ear, as he allowed himself a moment to bask in the burn of the sting before regaining his pace and thrusting back "you're so, so fucking good, just squeezing me so well hmm?" he growled, grunting as your pussy squeezed him harder and your eyes shut.
you only raked your nails down harder, although your moans were slightly muffled, and the desperate whines leaving your lips fuelled, him, as he continued snapping his hips into you, nails digging into your thigh, the pleasurable sting sending you spiraling. you could feel ths tight muscles rippling in his back, and you scratched down the bare expanse of his back, knowing it always drove him crazy.
the red hot pleasure in the pit of your stomach began to tighten, making you pant. he started guiding his cock deeper into you, which you didn't think was possible, and placed your hand in the outline of his cock in your tummy, and the filthy sound of your wetness and the sounds of your skin slapping together echoed across the hotel room.
the bed began to knock against the wall, the thumping sounding sweeter than the sweetest symphony you had ever heard.
your eyes rolled to the back of your head once again, mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure. for a second, you thought you had floated into another dimension, a low hum filling your ears, and your body convulsing in pleasure.
you heard steve moan your name, before letting out a low grunt, feeling him release his chokehold on your throat and hips, watching as you squirted all over him.
your cum splattered him all over, and your vision almost went black from how hard you had just squirted on him.
he reached out to collect your cum on his fingers, licking it, moaning at your sweet taste. the sight had you blushing.
you thought you were done, but just as you began to come to terms with the force of your orgasm, you felt his thumb on your clit, making you jerk your hips away, shaking your head. "daddy please, no more, i can't, not anymore" you whined out, feeling your pussy throb.
"yes you can, one more my doll, just give me one more" he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again harshly, in a rough, dirty, demanding kiss.
you could feel his hips stuttering, his cock beginning to pulse inside you, his thrusts becoming sloppy, signalling he was close to his own orgasm.
you moaned into his mouth, taking the opportunity to suck his tongue. "come on captain, cum for me, wont you? you work so hard and I'm so fucking proud of all your hard work" you whispered into his ears, licking at the shell of his ear
at your words, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his tongue poking out to lick patterns on the skin there, and you could hear his low, soft grunts as he chased his release, making the veins in his neck pop.
you could see his body glistening in the layer of sweat that had covered him, he continued to thrust into you for a second or two more, before a deep groan left his swollen lips, and an even deeper moan of your name echoed in your ear, as he spurted his cum into your warm pussy with a groan, your pussy clamping down on him like a vice, milking his cock
your body shuddered at the warm liquid dripping into you in hot spurts, covering your pussy in his cum, moaning in pleasure as the warmth of his release spread through you, enveloping you in a warm daze. panting softly, he stayed enveloped in your warm walls.
the both of you cuddled into the silk sheets, the aur conditioning doing little to cook your overhead bodies. steve pressed tender kisses to your face and body, whispers of "my beautiful girl, my angel, my doll, i adore you" leaving his lips like a mantra.
his hands, now no longer rough with want, traced soft patterns on your flushed skin.
"was that too rough for you?" he asked, concern etched in his eyes and worry lines appearing on his face.
"not at all" you said, quickly quelling his fears.
"you should do that again" you smirked, giggling when he blushed red. "thank you for that my love" he said, raising your knuckles to his lips to press a soft kiss to them.
"you don't have to thank me, steve. I'm always here for you no matter what" you murmured.
you were slowly sinking into a daze, but you registered him pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and heading to the bathroom
"I'll be back in just a second honey, I'm just getting some towels to clean us up" he explained, grinning at the pout adorning your bruised lips.
sure enough he came back, with cold towels to wipe you up with and a fresh set of pyjamas (his shirt and your shorts) to slip into, gently tugging you into the clothes and cleaning up the sticky mess on your thighs and cleaning you up.
he brushed the stray strands of your hair away from your face, pressing a soft kiss to your nose then your forehead, and then your lips.
he fed you a glass of cold water, and a piece of chocolate for a little bit of energy in the morning. cleaning himself up, he slipped into bed with you, his large arms wrapping you up, his head buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as you snored softly beside him.
in the warmth of your embrace, he felt an unspoken reassurance. as he held you close, the rhythmic beating of your heart echoed a comforting melody
in that tender moment, he realized that in your arms, he was not just physically close, but emotionally anchored. the world outside ceased to matter as he embraced the profound sense of safety and love that enveloped the both of you, creating a sanctuary where worries melted away, leaving only the simple joy of being together.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x oc#marvel#captain america#captain america x reader#captain america x you#captain america x female reader#marvel imagines#marvel x reader#marvel x you#marvel x y/n#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#avengers#avengers imagines#avengers x reader#bucky barnes#peggy carter#captain america the first avenger#tony stark#natasha romanoff#thor#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x reader smut#smut#captain america x reader smut
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hello, can I request a Steve Harrington fic where r working too hard for school and has been pulling all nighters frequently to keep track. R ends up being too tired and falling a little sick and not leaving the house except for when she has to go to school and her friends notice, Steve notices. Steve comes over, tries to help her and something along those lines. You can write it however you want, you can change it up if you want. Thank you :)
thank you for the request! tweaked it just a tiny bit, hope you enjoy :)
contains: cursing, fluff, overworked reader, soft!steve harrington, forgotten date, 1.0k words
School. Study. "Sleep". It was an endless, mind-numbing cycle that you were convinced was spiraling you into borderline madness. The condition of your bedroom was identical to how your brain had been feeling for the past week: cluttered and chaotic. With empty coffee cups littering your small floral desk, and your blush duvet covering more of the carpeted floor than your actual bed, you could hardly even recognize the room anymore.
The dirty laundry strewn across your floor would often trip you when you walked, but the assignments that you were practically drowning in made it impossible to shift your focus onto tidying the place.
You'd become a hermit; only leaving the comfort of your home to go to school and occasionally, the library, on the days that your room felt like more of a prison than a place of rest. Robin and Nancy, along with your boyfriend Steve, were certain you were avoiding them like the plague. They'd beg you to hangout with them, even bribing you by offering to treat you to lunch at the local diner, but the only thing you could say in return was a dry, "maybe later".
You didn't mean to be cold to them, but you were laser-focused on your agenda, determined to work first and play later. It's what led you to where you were now: head buried in your third textbook of the night, butt aching from being sat on your wooden chair for far too long.
On a Friday night of all.
From your window, you heard people, around your age you assumed, parading the streets and laughing loudly– enjoying their simple, young lives. Something you wished you could be doing too. But your work wasn't going to do itself.
You were color-coding the notes on your flashcard when three knocks sounded at your door, to which you mumbled a soft, "Come in," that even you barely heard. Your mother walked in, a mess of flour and an assortment of seasonings splotched on her apron from cooking dinner. "Honey, Steve's here," she smiled softly, though it was evident on her face that she was biting back the urge to tell you to clean your room, bless her.
The yellow highlighter you had was soon forgotten as your eyebrows furrowed, wondering what Steve was doing here. He usually called first.
Steve gave her a sweet grin when he passed her, leaving the door slightly cracked open, per your mothers request. In his hands he held a large box of pizza and a bouquet of pink roses; looking as dashing as ever with a crewneck and blue jeans adorning his body, with his hair being the perfect kind of messy.
You can't help but smile when you see him.
"Well, this is a rare sighting," he laughed, referring to you, "Should probably get this on camera." He kicked his white sneakers off where your own shoes were piled at, setting the pizza box down on your dresser.
"Very funny," you deadpanned, arms crossed on top of your chest. "What're you doing here?"
Steve approached you, something like a frown weighing on his lips. He taps the bouquet against his chest a couple times when he gently reminds you, "It's Friday."
You almost want to reach into your own body to catch your heart when you feel it completely sink. Friday's were you and Steve's designated date nights, never missing one since the two of you began dating a couple months ago. With the way you'd been so stressed and busy lately, it had completely slipped your mind. Suddenly, you felt incredibly guilty.
"Fuck," your head fell into your hands as you rubbed at your tired eyes, harshly. Your words were muffled when you continued, "I'm sorry, I'm the worst."
Steve shook his head almost instantly, gently resting the flowers down on the desk next to you. "Hey, c'mon," he started, moving your hands from your face, standing you up in front of him. "It's okay, I know you've been busy lately."
He rubbed at your shoulders tenderly and the warm touch melted you. It was the first time you truly relaxed that whole week. "You're not mad?" You asked the question in a hushed tone, looking up at him with glittering eyes that were a bit red, your nose a similar hue. You must've been getting sick. His poor baby.
"Not even a little," he gazed at you with heated, sincere brown eyes and you couldn't will yourself to look at anything else. He kissed your forehead, and it's a bit salty with sweat, but he doesn't mind. "Just worried, is all," he murmured, adjusting the pendant on your necklace that had somehow found its way onto your back.
"Can I help at all?" He nodded at the books on your table.
"Steve, no offense but it's AP Calc," you smiled, lightly scratching at his scalp when your arms found their way around his neck. You laughed when his eyebrows raised as if he was startled, slightly shaking his head. "Christ," he says through clenched teeth, though he doubles down on his offer, "well, then I guess I'm learning AP Calc today. No biggie," he shrugs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
"You don't have to do that, Stevie," you spoke against his lips, admiring how unbelievably sweet your boyfriend was. You knew how much he hated school, especially math, so you were more than grateful that he was willing to put himself through quite literal torture, just to make your night a bit easier. "But I want to," he kissed your nose. "Dinner first though, 'cause I know you skipped out on lunch."
Squinting your eyes, you released your hold on him. Sometimes it scared you how well he knew you. "How-?"
"I have eyes everywhere, love," he answered your question before you could even get it out. You rolled your eyes, a smile playing at your lips, already knowing that his "eyes" in question were just Robin and Nancy looking out for you.
💌 1 new message from jojo: writing this while procrastinating on like ten assignments was so funny lol. comments and reblogs are always appreciated! inbox is open!
#jojo’s requests ☁️#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington oneshot#soft!steve harrington#joe keery#stranger things
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Take care of my love
PAIRING | Loki Laufeyson x Avenger!Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 1K
SUMMARY | You have been struggling lately, and the rest of the Avengers are starting to take notice of this. One night, Thor approaches you and catches you off-guard, making you suddenly feel very self-conscious about your arms and legs. Loki happens to be nearby and notices, making sure you're feeling safe as he comes to your rescue.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Mentions of past self-harm, mentions of depression, Thor being an asshole, Loki being a really great friend.
A/N | I’d love to start writing more for Loki, so if you have a request, please let me know! It can be fluff, smut or angst - or a combination! Thanks in advance 🖤
Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜
Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist
You haven't been in the best headspace lately, and it is starting to show. Not just in the way you dress or look, but in your behavior too. Usually, you don't mind people seeing your scars nowadays, especially the Avengers, but your depression has been catching up with you again. The missions have been getting harder and it is difficult for you to stay focused when you're even going on one to begin with. Where you used to be the light of every room you walk into, now you're feeling like you bring everyone down with you as your mood turns sour very quickly.
You've rarely gotten out of bed these last few days, and your hygiene has been suffering as a result. When Steve calls you in for another mission, you text him to say you can't go, because you're not feeling well but you don't want to talk about it. He accepts but he's worried regardless, he's seen you go down a spiral like this before. Not much later, he's at your door, knocking softly. ''Y/N? Can I come in?'' he says but you send him away. ''Okay, but please take care of yourself, okay?'' he asks and you don't answer, you don't have the strength.
That evening, you have a sudden burst of energy, and decide to take advantage of it by taking a shower and getting yourself cleaned up a little. When you're done it's already close to midnight, so you just put on a pair of sleep shorts and a sports bra, so you can get a snack and something to drink before diving back into your bed. You look at yourself in the mirror and your eyes go over the scars on your arms, legs, and stomach, some from battle, but most from the years of self-harm. Some faded into almost nothing, some still pink from the fact that they're relatively fresh. You haven't done it in almost three months, but the scars don't fade that quickly, and you're well aware.
You finally manage to rip yourself away from the mirror and you walk towards the kitchen, not expecting anyone. When you arrive in the kitchen, however, you're met with a surprise in the form of a certain God of Thunder, as Thor is sitting in the kitchen eating a snack. ''Hey Y/N-'', he says before the rest of the words die in his mouth, and his eyes are grazing over your scars. You want to curl into a ball and cry right about now, because you're extremely uncomfortable at this moment, but you're trying to stay strong. ''What the… I thought you stopped harming yourself,'' Thor says as he walks up to you with big steps, and grabs your arms into his big hands.
''Thor, please let me go,'' you whimper, tears starting to trickle down your face. ''Not before you tell me why-'' he says bluntly, but suddenly you hear a familiar voice behind you. ''Brother, I believe the lady said she wants you to let go,'' Loki says and Thor immediately does, but not before looking at them for a few more seconds. ''I thought you didn't-'' he starts, but Loki doesn't let him finish. ''Stop, she's already in enough distress as is right now. Just go and don't be such a dick next time,'' he says shortly to Thor and he pulls his eyes away from you. ''I'm sorry,'' is all he says before walking out of the kitchen, and you sink into your knees, sobbing uncontrollably at this point.
''Is it okay if I touch you? I just want to hold you in my arms until you calm down, that's all,'' Loki says as he crouches in front of you, and you nod with your face in your hands. He wraps his arms around you softly as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, calming you down. The two of you stay like that for what feels like forever, and multiple Avengers came to check up on you, but Loki whisked them away without saying a word. He didn't have to, because they all knew he had it under control, he is taking care of you right now.
When your sobs have turned down to soft sniffles, you take your hands away from your face and you look at Loki, who gives you nothing but a look of pure adoration. ''Hi beautiful girl, I'm glad to have you back,'' he says as he softly runs his fingers through your hair. ''Do you want me to bring you to your bedroom?'' he asks and you nod, and he picks you up so your wrap your arms and legs around his shoulders and waist. ''Ah, you're my little koala bear now!'' he softly jokes and you chuckle a little because he's not wrong.
All you can think of is how grateful you are right now. In all honesty, the two of you haven't spoken that many times, but you've always been nice to each other. You never expected him to do this, however, but you'll soak up every second of it while it lasts. He softly strokes your back in circles as he walks you to your bedroom, and he can feel you physically relax in his hold. ''It's okay, beautiful, you're going to be okay,'' he says in your hair and smiles softly. He's glad he can help you like this, and he's honestly happy that he walked by when he did, because he doesn't want to think about what happened if he hadn't.
When the two of you arrived in your bedroom, he softly puts you down on the bed, and as he wants to walk away, you finally say something. ''Thank you, Loki. For saving me,'' you say, and all he says in response is ''Please, don't mention it. I'm just taking care of my love,'' he says before bending over and placing a kiss on your forehead. ''Stay, please,'' you say and he does. He strips down until he's just wearing pants before climbing in the bed with you, as you curl up into his arms, your head against his chest. ''We're going to talk about this later, right now, you need your sleep,'' he says and you agree, slowly falling into a deep sleep in his arms. You've never felt safer in your entire life than you do right now.
#loki laufeyson#loki laufeyson x female reader#loki laufeyson x reader#loki laufeyson x y/n#loki laufeyson fanfiction#loki laufeyson fluff#loki laufeyson angst#loki#loki x female reader#loki x reader#loki x y/n#loki fanfiction#loki fluff#loki angst
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My Problematic Girl - 12
Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader
Summary: Steve's mundane life in university, focused on graduating and funding his mother's surgery, is shaken by a mysterious new student who brings danger and surprises.
Author's Note: I decided to stop using "Y/N." Starting from this chapter, I will use the second-person point of view instead.
My Problematic Girl - Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.
Your heart was beating fast as you approached Maximus, the patriarch of the Solomon family and the man who held the key to uncovering the truth about your mother's death.
Maximus, sitting in his wheelchair like a king on his throne, smiled at you. But you knew there was a hidden meaning behind that smile.
“You’ve made your way back. I’m impressed,” he said.
You bowed deeply. “I will do anything to impress the king.”
“Hahaha.” His laughter echoed through the grand hall, drawing the attention of the guests. Even those who had worked with Maximus for years rarely heard him laugh.
But you, the outsider who was thrown out for staining the Solomon name, were welcomed back.
Your father, Brian, stood nearby. His expression was neutral, but you could tell he was impressed that you had managed to gain Maximus's favor. He just hoped you wouldn't mess up this chance again.
Shara, your step-sister with no blood relation to you, stood between her grandfather and your father. To outsiders, she looked like your father's daughter. She had successfully stolen your father's affection, and you had willingly let her. She smiled at you. “Our house felt empty without you.”
You returned her smile with a fake one. “Hmph.”
This was the first time Steve had seen your step-sister. The difference between the two of you was like fire and water.
“It’s exciting, right? I heard the battle of succession will happen soon.” Steve nearly jumped when someone suddenly spoke to him.
“Why do you act like you’ve seen a ghost?” The stranger laughed. “My name is Derick. I saw you talking to Sophia. Does your company work with her?”
Steve quickly tried to remember the guest information you had given him. Derick was an elite from a wealthy family who owned an oil company.
“She’s interested in my painting,” Steve replied.
Derick gasped and covered his mouth with his hand in mock surprise. “Oh shit. You’re that painter.” He tilted his head, a mocking smile on his face. “So you’re just extra baggage, huh?” Then he walked away.
Steve didn’t know whether to feel offended or not. He wasn’t entirely sure what 'extra baggage' meant in this context.
'Ding.'
A small ring from the butler's bell silenced the room, drawing everyone's attention. “The dining room is ready for the guests,” he announced.
The guests began to make their way slowly toward the dining room. Steve hesitated, unsure if there was a seat prepared for him.
“Steve,” you called, nodding your head for him to follow you.
The dining room was immense, decorated with the opulence of a five-star French hotel. The elegant table settings and luxurious interior reminded Steve of scenes from the magazines he used for drawing references. It felt like a feast fit for a king.
Now, he regretted following you. He was seated beside you, directly in the circle of the Solomon family. He felt terrified, especially under the scrutinizing gaze of Maximus. The intensity of it made him want to crawl under the table.
“So you’re the new rising artist?” Maximus asked, his voice cutting through the chatter.
“Yes… sir,” Steve replied, his voice trembling. His nervousness almost made Sophia and Shara chuckle.
“You found an obedient pet,” Maximus remarked to you. You sipped your champagne before responding, “I need something to rid me of my boredom.”
Steve rolled his eyes. The conversation between you and Maximus sounded almost familial. Despite the initial fear, he started to see Maximus not as a terrifying patriarch but as an old man with a sharp tongue and a certain charm.
But Steve spoke too soon. He soon saw the true nature of Maximus—a sadistic man.
When the food arrived, everyone began eating except for Maximus. He never moved his hands from the armrests of his wheelchair. Three servants attended to him: one cutting his food, one feeding him, and one providing water whenever he asked for it.
“Water,” Maximus demanded. If the servant was too slow, he would slap the glass from their hand and say, “Too late.”
'What the fuck? This old man can use his hands. Why is he acting disabled?' Steve thought, trying to hide his shock. But Maximus could read him easily. His old age had taught him to read people like a book.
“You wonder why?” Maximus asked, his piercing eyes locking onto Steve's.
Steve stiffened, unsure how to respond. He glanced at you for some guidance, but you were calmly sipping your champagne, seemingly unbothered by the tension.
Maximus leaned forward slightly, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Power, young man. It’s all about power. I don’t need to lift a finger because I’ve trained everyone around me to cater to my every whim. It’s a demonstration of control.”
Steve swallowed hard, nodding slightly. “I see, sir.” The answer is the same as you. Turned out you learned from him. No wonder why you mind fucked up some time.
Maximus chuckled, the sound sending a chill down Steve’s spine. “Do you? It’s not something you see, it’s something you feel. The weight of authority, the expectation of obedience.”
Sophia leaned in, her gaze fixed on Steve. “You must understand, in our world, appearances are everything. Power is maintained not just through actions, but through the perception of those actions.”
Steve nodded again, his mind racing. He could feel the eyes of the entire table on him, judging his every move.
“Eat, Steve,” you said softly, breaking the tension slightly. “Enjoy the food.”
Steve picked up his fork and began to eat, his hands still shaking slightly. The food was exquisite, but he could barely taste it over the anxiety roiling in his stomach.
‘Ding. Ding.’
One of the guests stood up from his seat. Steve recognized him as the country's economic minister. Silently, he marveled that someone of such importance was among the guests. The minister raised his champagne glass, and everyone followed suit. “We’re here to celebrate a genius businessman who has made us all rich.” His remark made the guests laugh. “We wish you a long life, Mr. Solomon.”
Maximus nodded his head and made a hand motion for everyone to sit. He didn’t say a word, yet everyone obeyed him. He was right; money and power could command such respect.
“I did. I made everyone in this room fucking rich,” he said, his voice filled with authority.
Everyone laughed and agreed with him.
“I’m grateful that all of you are here, wishing me a long life. But I have decided to retire,” Maximus announced.
‘Clink.’
A fork fell to the ground, the sound echoing in the room. Silence followed as everyone processed the announcement. Even Sophia, Brian, Shara, and you were shocked; Maximus had never mentioned retiring.
“Father…” Sophia tried to intervene.
“Be quiet, Sophia. I’m trying to talk here.” Maximus slapped her hand away, embarrassing her but remaining unfazed.
“Everything changes as I grow older. My generation is slowly dying, and the new generation must take over,” he continued.
The guests started murmuring. ‘What does it mean?’
‘Is he going to give the company to Sophia or Shara?’
“There are two people I see as my future heir. Shara, my granddaughter.” Maximus looked at Shara, who turned pale, anticipating the next words her grandfather would say.
“And my step-granddaughter, Y/N,” he declared.
The room erupted in noise. Everyone began talking at once. He skipped his daughter Sophia from the list and chose his granddaughter instead. Sophia turned pale as snow, her father not even considering her worth it.
“Sir, you’re going to give the company to someone not related to you?” one of the guests asked.
“It’s my fucking company. I can do whatever I want,” Maximus screamed, punching the table.
Steve flinched, realizing just how terrifying the old man could be.
“Besides… she has my blood,” Maximus revealed, dropping a bombshell.
You looked at him, confusion and questions etched on your face. What was he talking about?
Maximus smiled at you. “Eight years ago, when you needed a blood transfusion, I gave you my blood. So my blood is running through your veins right now.” He said it like he gave you a wonderful gift.
You were shocked, looking down at your arms. You had no idea. Confusion and disgust washed over you at the thought of having Solomon's blood.
Brian glared at his father-in-law. “You’re a prick.”
Maximus smirked. He slowly stood up from his wheelchair and opened his arms wide. “Like a king in the old days, he would choose a successor from his descendants. He would pick the best.”
Shara gasped, unable to believe her grandfather was serious. She looked at you, who was smiling at her like a joker. You were excited for this. You couldn’t wait to bring down this kingdom.
“Let the battle for succession begin!” Maximus proclaimed.
The tension in the room was palpable. Guests whispered among themselves, their faces a mix of shock and intrigue. Maximus’s declaration had set the stage for a fierce and ruthless competition.
You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. The prospect of this battle excited you, the chance to prove yourself and to upend the established order.
Steve, still reeling from the announcement, tried to maintain his composure. He glanced at you, noticing the fire in your eyes. You were ready for this challenge, ready to face whatever came your way.
Maximus returned to his wheelchair, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “This will be a test of strength, intelligence, and loyalty. Only the best will inherit my empire.”
Sophia and Brian exchanged worried glances while Shara’s face twisted in fear. The room buzzed with anticipation, the air thick with unspoken rivalries and ambitions.
The murmurs of the guests could be heard, expressing a preference for you instead because you already have experience and started from the bottom, while Shara is still learning to become a doctor.
The guests couldn’t stop discussing the impending battle as the evening continued. You and Steve found yourselves at the center of attention, every move scrutinized, every word analyzed.
Maximus watched from his wheelchair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He had set the stage for a power struggle that would test the limits of everyone involved.
The night ended with a sense of foreboding and excitement. The real game was about to begin, and in the world of the Solomons, only the strongest would survive.
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Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites (Steddie X You)
A/N: This is that idea I told y'all about when my PTSD was really bad last week. I actually liked writing some of this out <3. It did help a bit. I wish I had them and a Red to help me through those rough days.
I did set this after the events of Season 4 so slight spoilers involving Max mostly. Im kind of excited to explore a bit more of Steve's PTSD involving the show. I did it a bit here. I also chose to utilize my own trauma as the readers trauma. I'll delve a bit more in the warnings.
Anyone struggling with their mental health, you are not alone <3. You're feelings are valid and we just have to take things one day at a time. I love you :)
Warnings: Steddie X Fem Reader, No smut yet, Fluff with the reader trying to make them feel better and vice versa. Angst, trauma involving the show is mentioned especially with Steve's feelings of what happened to Max, mentions of Eddie being blamed and the town treating him like trash, he does talk about his abuse as a child very briefly as does the reader. No details are mentioned just that it happened. Reader has a panic attack that the boys help her through.
I do expand on symptoms of PTSD and how the reader feels. Symptoms of mental health can be different for everyone so I focused more on what I experience with my own PTSD. As I progress in the chapters and she becomes more open with them I will most likely talk about things that happened to me. I didn't want to generalize what she was going through mostly because its hard. PTSD and trauma are complicated in it of its self so...
Word Count: 5314
You had been coming to this group for years because of your mental health. Your doctor suggested it stating that it might help you to hear from other people going through the same thing you were. Truth be told it never worked. The other people in this post traumatic stress support group were mostly military vets or officers who had just moved to Hawkins to “get away from the chaos.” You imagined it was a quite a shock for them when the earthquake hit…
While a lot of their symptoms and aftermath stories were similar to yours, you struggled to connect. If anything, you felt more alone. So why did you keep coming back?
Routine, maybe. Or the need to have any kind of human contact since you spend the bulk of your time by yourself at home. Hell, you even worked from home so the only living thing you interacted with on a daily basis was your service dog, Ren. You rarely ever spoke in group, choosing to sit there and listen to the other people speak.
Since the earthquake, however, more people had joined to your dismay. Most of the citizens that came in took up most of the time talking about the event and how scared they were about what happened. You tried not to let the disgust show on your face when they spoke, understanding that everyone experiences things differently but they didn’t really know.
They didn’t know what it was like to spend years replaying an event in your head even when you’re asleep. To have those moments where something that would be random to someone else meant something significant to you triggering a panic attack that knocked you on your ass for the rest of the day. They didn’t know what it was like to be so scared to even go to the fucking grocery store to get essentials without the fear that everyone is talking about you and judging you because you’ve been standing in front of the canned goods for a little bit too long wondering if you buy this will you actually eat it or will it just sit there for months at a time because some days you don’t feel like eating.
Your PTSD consumed a lot of your life for most of your life whereas these people were just now stepping into it and were most likely going to step right back out. After a few months, you were correct. All those citizens gradually stopped coming in till it was just the regular survivors once again.
After grabbing some coffee, you and Ren sat in your usual spot, waiting for the meeting to start. The dog grabbed your attention when he whined and without warning placed his head on the stranger beside you.
“Oh. Hey, buddy.”, he coos as his big hand reaches down to pet his head.
“I’m sorry. He probably senses your anxiety.”
“Well shit. He’s not wrong. I’m not really good at any of this.”, he gestures around the room. “But some of my friends insisted we come so…”
“We?”
“Yeah, um…” The boy’s eyes glance up towards someone headed for the seat next to him and it takes you a moment to realize everyone else’s eyes on him as well.
You recognized his face immediately, Edward Munson. The metalhead had been accused of being a satanic worshipper who murdered a bunch of teens a few months ago. He had been cleared of those charges thanks to the help of the old police chief, some detective journalism by Nancy Wheeler, and his friend… “Steve Harrington?”
“That’s me. Do I know you? My memory isn’t what it used to be.”
“She had school with us and graduated along with you, Harrington.”, Eddie sighed as he folded his arms.
“Oh. I’m sorry. What was your name?”
“You look different.”, you blurted before turning away from him and closing your eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry. Sometimes…my mouth moves before…before my brain catches up.”
Ren senses your heightened anxiety and places himself between your legs so you can pet his head, down his back.
“Alright everyone, let’s get started.”, the overly cheery coordinator grins as he sits down and crosses his legs. While glancing at his clipboard, he addresses the circle. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to share before we get going?”
“Why is he here?”, someone sneers as they point towards the metalhead.
“He should be in a cell not in group therapy.”, says another.
“Hey now. Mr. Munson is entitled to care just like everyone else and I expect you guys to treat him with the same respect we do everyone else. If that’s going to be a problem, I completely understand, feel free to leave and meet us at our other scheduled time on Thursday.”
Half the people in the room stood up and walked out, the last person slamming the door of the room for emphasis. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve pat his back comfortingly as Eddie lets out a deep, heartbroken sigh.
“Would either of you like to introduce yourself to the rest of the group?”
The metalhead continued to glare forward as Steve spoke up. “As some of you may know, I’m Steve Harrington and this is my friend Eddie. Our other friend Robin suggested we try this since we, uh, we’ve been having some trouble lately.”
“Good, very good. Nice to meet you both. This is a safe space so please feel free to be open here.”
“Thank you.”
“Let’s, uh, let’s continue down the line here. Y/N? Do you feel like talking? I see Ren is on duty today. Something you’re anxious about?”
“Everything.” The man chuckles as people around the room nod in agreement. “I’m ok today, thanks.”
The remainder of the meeting goes by smoothly without any incident and as it ends everyone rises to leave except the two people next to you. They expect you to leave as well but when you stand, instead of heading for the door you place yourself next to Eddie. He doesn’t move or make any gestures to acknowledge your presence and you’re ok with that. You aren’t really one for small talk or anything like that but something about his demeanor gave you a gut feeling that you decided to expand on.
Your therapist was always preaching about learning to trust your gut and positive self-talk making your eyes roll every time.
“Um, this is Ren. He’s a service lab for me because I, uh, I get shaky and anxious really easily. He can sense when I’m nervous or about to have an attack so he helps ground me. I can just pet him or he’ll let me hold him. At home, he’s trained to bring me my medication.”
Steve watches you speak, seemingly trying to get a read on you while Eddie continues to stare straight ahead. You can tell he’s listening though because his head tilted ever so slightly towards you as you began explaining things. Personally, he was so ecstatic to hear a stranger talk calmly with him but he couldn’t display that for fear of ruining the moment or worse, it being a lie.
“Do…do you want to pet him?”
His head finally whips around to look at you as his eyes scan yours. Swallowing nervously, he sat up straighter, rolling his eyes in faux frustration as his palm reached out to pet the dog’s head.
“Why Ren? How did you come up with that?”, Steve asked.
“The morning before I got him, I saw Footloose at the cinema. I like Kevin Bacon’s character and his name was Ren. Do you want to see something cute?” Without waiting for an answer, you stood in front of them and motioned for the lab to stand in front of you. Holding out your hands, you sang the Footloose theme song and he jumped up to place his paws in your hands to dance with you.
Both men smiled and you knew you’d never be able to explain why but it comforted you.
“I, um, I know this town can be full of assholes but I hope you do come back next week. Craig, the coordinator, will take care of you. He’s a little quirky but he’s nice.”
Again, you don’t wait for an answer as you gather your things and Ren before heading out the door.
****
When Steve got home that night, he immediately went on the hunt for his yearbook.
“What are you doing, man?”, Eddie whined as he threw himself on the bed.
“Looking for my yearbook. I’m surprised I don’t remember her. The guy said Y/N, do you remember her last name?”
Of course, he did. When you were in school together, he had a few classes with you especially English. Junior year you wrote a story that the teacher made you read in front of the class about a girl who was hiding in a forest behind a tree as she watched two monsters argue about how they were going to eat her when they found her. The other kids thought you were weird but he identified with it; picturing his parents fighting as you read.
Eddie never found the courage to speak to you but he was always your hidden knight, watching over you. One of the party boys had talked about how they fucked you and how much of a freak you were so he slashed the kids tires and spray painted “Asshole” in big, bold letters on his car. You probably didn’t remember but on valentine’s day he had slipped a note in your locker that was a drawing of you battling your monsters you had written about.
“No. Come on, Harrington. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re going back anyway.”
Steve paused his search as he sat down and crossed his legs. “Why wouldn’t we go back?”
“I don’t know if you noticed but people weren’t exactly excited I was there.”
“Fuck those people. At least one person was excited. Two if you count the dog.”
“Yeah sure. Let ruin that by bringing her into our shit. Plus, it’s not like we can tell anyone or talk about what really happened.”
Steve sighed as he got up to sit beside him. “Ed, first off, there isn’t shit to bring her into. Vecna’s dead; we killed him. Secondly, we don’t have to talk about what happened…just what happens after.”
“Really? You want to play that game, Steven? He may be dead but we still got shit. Max is still in a coma, Dustin is still struggling, the town is quite literally cut in half, and ALL of us still have fucking nightmares with all that other fun post traumatic shit. Things are still so out of whack we haven’t even told our friends about us yet.”
“They have enough on their plates.”
“Exactly. So, I reiterate, why do you want to bring this girl into our chaos?”
The man sighs again as he hangs his head making Eddie feel a little guilty as he leans his head on his shoulder while reaching for his hand.
“I don’t know. There’s just something about her that makes me feel comfortable and safe.”
###########
“You came back.”
“Yeah, it took some convincing but…”, Steve grinned. “Hey Ren. May I?”, he asked before petting the lab when you nodded.
“How are you feeling today, Eddie?”
The metalhead softly smiles at you as he tilts his head in your direction. When the meeting begins you can already feel that the energy is different. One of the regulars is extremely agitated today as his leg bounces and he folds his arms. As soon as Craig reaches him, he shouts his problem as he struggles to control the volume of his voice. Your eyes close as you try to stay present and remind yourself that your safe.
No, no, no. Please. I can’t have a panic attack here in front of all these people. Everyone will look at me. They’ll think I’m weak. No, no, no.
“Y/N?”, the coordinator calls your name and you fold into yourself. “Y/N, you’re ok. You’re safe.”
Ren places his front paws on your knees as he rests his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t do this, pushing him back as you stumbled out the door into the hallway before sinking to the floor.
Your service dog continued to do what it was trained to do as he ran after you and laid beside you in your arms. The sound of your bag and a bottle of water being placed beside you startled you but you couldn’t move to acknowledge it.
You felt your head being lifted and placed on something relatively soft as you continued to try and calm down. It took a few moments but once you felt like you could breathe you opened your teary eyes to see Eddie looking towards the window.
“Hey, hey, take your time.”, Steve soothed in a soft tone when you tried to sit up. “I grabbed your bag and some water. Do you need your meds or anything?”
“C-C-Can you help me?”, you asked as you reached your arms back to try and push yourself to a sitting position. He leaned over to help you adjust as you laid against the wall with your head on the metalhead’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
“I didn’t want you laying your head on the hard floor. I hope that was ok.”, Eddie tenderly grinned.
You nodded, watching heavily as Ren dug his snout in your purse before producing your medicine and placing it on your lap.
“Good boy. Steve, in there is his treats. Can you give him one?”
He smiled as he did what you asked and your dog wagged his tail happily.
“Do you need help?”, Eddie whispered.
“I don’t want to be any trouble.”
Without saying a word, he grabbed the meds from you lap and opened the bottle, shaking one into his hand and popping it closed. He placed the pill near your mouth and your eyes met his as you slowly opened, allowing him to place it on your tongue before holding the edge of the water to your lips and tipping it back.
“You’re not any trouble. I…we…appreciate you being as kind as you have been to us.”
As he extended his arm to place everything back in its proper place, his jacket sleeve slid up and you noticed some slight scaring around his wrist. When he felt your eyes on him, he followed your glance, quickly covering it up as he leaned back.
“Thank you for coming out here. You didn’t have to. I struggle with aggressiveness like what Jeremy did in there.”
“Is that not normal for him?”
“Usually, no but I imagine this earthquake and the aftermath hasn’t helped him with his flashbacks.”
“How has it been for you?”, Steve asked.
“Um, not to chaotic. I had a harder time a few months prior when this town was going crazy and playing police officers like they were the law or something. Oh shit. Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even—”
“No worries, sweetheart. I’m used to it now; the stares, gossip, and questions.”
“Should you be?”
His eyes met yours again before quickly looking away as the door to the group area opened and people filed out. The man who had been yelling came over to where you were sitting and apologized in a much more gentle tone then he had previously. After accepting it and smiling towards him, you slowly wobbled to your feet with Steve helping to guide you.
“Are you ok to drive? We can take you home if you’d like.”
“No, I’m alright. I just need to eat something and get a little energy back.”
“Would you like to have dinner with us?”, Eddie offered carefully.
“Sure.”
***
As the three of you entered the restaurant, your eyes darted around as your brain did its regular anxiety check. You made sure to clock where all the exits were and how to get to them, scanned the current patrons to make sure no one was someone who would hurt you, and marked which seat you would prefer to be in just in case you needed to run.
When you glanced towards Steve, you blinked back surprise when you realized he was doing the same thing.
“I have to leave, Harrington, but get it to go and we can eat in my van. If that’s ok with you.”
You nodded, panicking slightly as he walked back out the door, unsure of what he was hiding from. To avoid another episode, you did the same leaving the other man to order. When you made it outside you found Eddie in the driver’s seat smoking a cigarette, his eyes darting to you when you climbed into the passenger’s side.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I saw Jason’s parent’s eating at a table so…”
“I never thought you killed those kids.” As soon as the words blurted out, your eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Finger reached out to touch your arm causing your eyes to open again, meeting his kind chocolate-colored ones.
“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”
When you apologize again, both of you let out a breathy, genuine laugh.
“When I saw on the news what happened to Chrissy, I knew you couldn’t have done it. Yeah, you were always loud in school but you were also really sweet… at least from what I remember.”
You two jumped when Steve opened the back of the van and threw himself in. “Eddie, go.”
Without any hesitation, he started to put the vehicle in gear but he wasn’t fast enough as Jason’s father appeared by his window and aggressively knocked on the glass.
“Where do you think you’re going, freak?! You’re the reason my son and his girlfriend are dead!”
“Go, Eddie!”, Steve commanded.
The metalhead slammed his foot on the gas and sped off with the man shouting behind him. The rest of the ride was silent until he parked near the hill that surveyed the town. You watched as he continued to grip the wheel like a lifeline as his chest rose and fell. You wanted to help but you didn’t know exactly how. They only thing you could think of was to grab his palm and place it on Ren’s head. The dog was used to limp pets as Eddie’s hand lazily fell down his back but he promptly rested his head on his lap as you praised him.
Steve leaned over the seat and placed his arms around him as he whispered things in his ear furthest from you. After a few moments his hand began to move against Ren’s fur making the dog’s tail wag as the other boy released him from his hold.
“Come on. Let’s eat.”
############
It was actually the perfect evening for eating outside. The van doors remained open as the three of you munched on your meals in the back. From this spot Hawkins looked different; less chaotic than it was.
While you guys ate you casually talked about yourself. They told you some general things about themselves and you did the same. Even though you felt safe with them you didn’t want to bombard them too much with the mess that was your life. You felt like they were holding back as well, omitting certain information they were afraid to tell.
“You can work from home, you know?”, you mentioned after Eddie brought up how hard it was to find a job because of who he was. “That’s what I do.”
“I could do that.”
“Wouldn’t that be hard for you, Ed? You’re very talkative and outgoing. Don’t you like thrive off of people or some shit.”
“Thrive off of people… No, Harrington. I’m not a vampire.” They grinned at each other when you giggled. “I mean it wouldn’t be much different. Everyone already thought I was a freak beforehand. Now I’m just a murdering freak.”
Everyone went silent as the metalhead turned away to glare outside.
“You should stop saying things like that.”, you murmur.
“It’s how they feel.”, he shrugs.
“Who cares how they feel. What matters is how you feel and the truth. You didn’t do it so stop saying it.” Eddie’s eyes jerked towards you as your tone got more agitated.
“Yeah, well, what would you know?”
“Eddie, stop it.”, Steve warned.
“It’s ok, Steve. I can handle this. I’m mentally ill not weak.”
“No one said you were weak, Y/N.”
“What makes you so confident I didn’t do it, hm? You weren’t there. Maybe I did.”
“Eddie…”
“No, Harrington. I’m curious. What makes her so confident? I have to know because besides my friends and my uncle you are the only person in this town who believes I didn’t do some satanic ritual to murder Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Jason. That I didn’t hurt Max to cause that fucking earthquake. Why?”
Steve angerly threw the water bottle he was drinking from hard against the inside of the van making you jump.
“Jesus Christ. Are you fucking kidding me, Ed?! We finally find one person who believes the truth and you have to fucking question it! Who gives a fuck why she believes you! Just embrace it.”
He crawls out of the vehicle and begins to pace as he lets off steam. Ren puts his head on your lap and you pet him as you watch Eddie climb out as well and hug the boy from behind, resting his cheek on his back.
“I’m sorry if I startled you.”, Steve apologized without looking your way.
“You didn’t. I…I feel safe with you, both of you. That’s why I believe you. I can’t explain it, Eddie. I wish I could. My therapist says that because of my trauma I had to learn how to read people so I could protect myself and prepare just in case. You two…I just don’t get this vibe that I need to be afraid of you.”
“Like a superpower?”, the metalhead grins softly as he comes to sit back beside you.
“You could say that.”, you giggle and his heart melts. Abruptly, you lean over and wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling his body stiffen only for a moment before fully accepting it. “You’re a good person Edward Munson.”
Steve watches you both as he stands in front of you, also taken aback when you turn your love towards him by hugging him to, circling your arms around his lower back.
“You to, Steve Harrington.”
****
The following week you were happy to see they attended group again and seemed so much lighter than they had the other times they had come. As the meeting started, once again you felt that shift in energy.
“Y/N, I know you don’t talk much here and that’s absolutely fine. I was hoping maybe we could talk about what happened last week.”
“Oh, um, I don’t want to make Jeremy feel bad.”
“I’m ok. I want you to talk about it. It helps me understand…”
You gnaw on your bottom lip at his answer as Craig looks at you with earnest eyes. “I, um, he got aggressive and I panicked.”
“He did get verbally confrontational. Was it the yelling or what he was saying that triggered you?”
“The…yelling doesn’t…doesn’t really bother me or what is said. It…how it was being said.”
“Huh. Interesting. Please, go on.”
“My mom…was always kind of…forceful with her words…”
You don’t see it but both the boy’s protective modes had kicked in beside you especially Steve’s. It takes all his energy not to comfort you in some way. Yesterday, you had hugged him and Eddie but you three had been alone. Right now, you were in room full of people and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He settled for casually extending his legs a bit so his knee was just barely touching your own.
“I don’t want to talk anymore if that’s ok.”
“That’s fine, Y/N. How about you Steve? I noticed you and Eddie got up pretty quickly to make sure she was okay. I’m sure she appreciates that. Are you usually the protector of your friend group?”
He smirks slightly. “They would probably say I’m more like the babysitter.”
“That’s funny.”, the coordinator laughs. “I have seen you around town with some of the younger kids like Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler. You and Mr. Munson there.”
“How’s Max Mayfield doing?” Both their heads shot up to look towards the member that asked the question. “Is she doing any better? I heard her mom is wreck.”
“Jackie, you know the rules. We don’t gossip in here.”, Craig scolds.
“I’m not gossiping! Max was dating that Sinclair boy, right? Who hangs out with Michael and Dustin who apparently hang out with them so…I just want to know.”
Ren, who had been laying on the floor by your feet, suddenly sat up and waddled between Steve’s legs before lifting himself up so his head was on the man’s shoulder.
“Hug him.”, you whisper as you reach out to rub the boy’s back.
Slowly, he wraps his arms around him and pets the dog’s head. “Good boy.”
“Let’s, uh, Let’s move on to someone else.”
As the coordinator began talking to another person, Steve got up to leave as you and Eddie followed behind. Unlike you, instead of sitting in the hall, he continued to the parking lot towards his BMW.
“Steve, wait. Wait a second!”, the metalhead called to him trying to keep up.
“I’m fine. Let’s just go home.”
“If you’re fine then why are we leaving?”
“Because I know they are going to ask about her again and I don’t want to hear it so…”, he aggressively gestures towards the car.
“Isn’t that the point of this therapy group bullshit? To talk or whatever the fuck you said. This was your idea. You can’t just drag us here and then leave when it gets hard.”
“Ok, well, you know what? You were right, okay? We can’t talk about what happened so—”
“But they aren’t asking what happened. They are asking how she is. They already think they know what happened.”
“Fine! Fine, Eddie! Let’s go back in there and answer her question! ‘Oh yeah, Jackie, Max is fine. Just all of her limbs are broken and she’s in a fucking coma but hey the doctors say she’s not brain dead! Always a silver lining!’”
“Steve…what happened to her wasn’t your fault.”
“Fuck this. I’ll walk home.”
The metalhead ran in front of him, trying to block him with his body. “What happened to her, me, Dustin, and Lucas wasn’t your fault. You killed him. You, Nancy, and Robin saved us all but you’re not fucking superman, babe. You can’t be everywhere at once and can’t protect everyone.”
Steve’s head hung and they clung to each other as Eddie embraced him. When they disconnected, they were almost startled by your presence, forgetting you were there entirely.
“Hey, um, before my brain glitches, I drew you something last night.” Eddie digs in his pocket and hands you a folded piece of paper.
When you open it fully, you softly smile at the image of you in boots and a superhero style outfit with your palm in the air as a zig-zag force field surrounded you. Next to you was Ren with his tongue hanging out and mask over his eyes. At the top was bold 3D lettering that read “LADY EMPATHY” with smaller print underneath; “Senses Emotions and helps heal the innocent with her trustee four-legged side kick Anti-Depressant.”
You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but you loved it. No one had ever done something nice like this for you except that one time someone slide a drawing into your locker.
Your eyes met his as a light bulb went off in your head.
“Do you two want to come over to my house? We can hang out and eat some food. I would like to show you something.”
Eddie glanced at Steve who nodded his approval.
“Ok. Sounds like fun.”
****
“Wow, this place is really nice.”, Steve muses as he looks around.
“Thank you. I don’t have much but I don’t need too much so…”, you shrug as you watch them move around.
“You seem to like a lot of movies, huh?” Eddie walks around looking at your posters hanging on the wall.
“I do especially the fantasy ones. It’s nice to hide from reality in movies like The Never Ending Story or Dragon Slayer. I can’t wait for Labyrinth to come out. You know that new Bowie movie?”
The metalhead chuckles when Steve shrugs. “He doesn’t know who that is, sweetheart. Steve isn’t exactly well versed in most media.”
Your eyes widen as you head towards your sound system and push in a cassette. “Let’s Dance” flows through the speakers and he bobs his head he listens. “Pretty cool.”
Eddie laughs harder when you playfully sigh as his musical ignorance. “Yeah. Welcome to my world. What did you want to show us?”
After disappearing into your room, you come back with a frame in your arms, the image facing your body.
“When I was in high school, I was pretty good at being invisible but sometimes I wasn’t so lucky. The jocks would pick on me a lot and pretty girls like Tammy Thompson would make my life hell.” Steve sighed praying that he wasn’t one of the people who hurt you. “That was nothing compared to what I was dealing with at home. My parents…they, um, they weren’t nice with each other and sometimes…my mother would take that out on me.”
“I always loved English class because I could write about what I was feeling. One day a teacher had asked me to read something I wrote in front of everyone. I told him no but he insisted and as I stood there, I could hear people snickering. It was awful; I hate talking in front of people. But anyway, a few days later, I found this in my locker.”
You turned the frame around to display the image Eddie had drawn for you as you slowly moved toward him.
“You have no idea what this did for me. In a world full of people where I felt like no one cared, this showed me someone was listening. Someone out there did care…at least enough to take the time to draw this and give it to me.”
Eddie’s eyes met yours as he spoke. “I related to it, your story about the monsters and the kid hiding. My father used to scream at my mother until it escalated. I would always hide in my room hoping I wasn’t next.” Steve came over to stand next to him and rub his back comfortingly. “Turns out I can’t fight any monsters, can I, Stevie?”
The boy growled under his breath as his hand fell.
“You were always amazing to me. You seemed so smart and strong; I was so afraid to talk to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your story so I drew that and slid it into your locker.”
“So…my superpower works? I was right about you. You are a good person.” You smile when he smirks in your direction. “You guys can talk to me…about anything. I won’t judge you or hurt you or anything. I trust you and I hope that you can trust me.”
They glance at each other and you see the hesitation in their look. They a definitely holding something back but you pray that one day they’ll feel comfortable enough to let you in. Little did you know, the massive secrets they could tell.
#steddie x reader#steddie fluff#steddie smut#steddie fanfiction#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie fanfic#eddie stranger things#steve fanfic#steve smut#steve stranger things#joe keery#joseph quinn#stranger things#fan fiction#mental health#ptsd#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington angst#eddie munson fanfic#protective eddie munson#protect Steve Harrington
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when in doubt, always blame a man
note: this was supposed to be posted ages ago, but i couldn't figure out how to write the morning after. i still don't know how, so have this as is lmao. it’s a fun meet ugly.
this comes from the prompt: you got drunk, knocked on my door at 4a, obnoxiously flirted with me and then vomited all over my feet, now it’s the next day and you’re hungover and don’t remember anything and my firm belief that steve can only flirt when drunk.
word count: 2k
warnings: second hand embarrassment, vomit
It was rare that you got a full night's sleep in your apartment complex. Something or someone always managed to wake you up. It could be your neighbors arguing, a too loud radio, police sirens, your cat stepping on your stomach; anything, but always something. For the past two weeks however, you’d been blessed with undisturbed sleep. You had forgotten how wonderful it felt to be well rested. Every day seemed so much lighter, and easier, and you felt so much more productive. You were caught up on chores, with no piles of laundry or dishes, and had been acing your classes with no need for all nighters, and even had time to hang out with your friends a couple of times a week. It was the best you’d felt in months.
So when you woke up at 3:37 a.m. to someone pounding on your door, you were rightfully pissed.
You groaned, turning over and pulling your pillow over your head in a desperate attempt to ignore them. The pounding continued for a moment, before stopping. You sighed, and settled deeper into your bed, ready to drift back to sleep, when -
“Robin!”
Ugh. At this point, if you didn’t get rid of them, your neighbors were going to blame you.
“Robbieeeeeeeeee!”
You threw off your blankets, rolled out of bed, and contemplated getting dressed before deciding against it. you were wearing a shirt that, While not workplace appropriate with a slogan of WHEN IN DOUBT, ALWAYS BLAME A MAN, fell to mid thigh and boxer style panties. If someone was going to drunkenly wake you up this late, they got you in your truest form.
You didn’t turn on any lights, instead walking down the short hallway to your front door with your arms outstretched like a zombie. At one point, you tripped over your cat, resulting in angry hissing, swearing, and a mumbled apology.
“Robinnnnnnnnnnnn!”
Rolling your eyes at whoever was in the hall, you swung your door open, completely ready to rip them apart for waking you up, only for your wrath to get stuck in your throat.
The drunken stranger was hot.
He was tall, with thick brown hair somehow styled and messy at the same time, with a pair of aviators resting on the top of his head. His white button up was open to the middle of his chest, showing off a silver chain and equally thick chest hair. A brown leather jacket, black jeans rolled at the ankle, and white nikes completed the look, but you didn’t care about that. You were far more focused on his square jaw, pretty lips, and kissable moles.
“You’re not robin,” the drunken stranger slurred, causing you to make some terrible noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “You’re like, way hotter than robin.”
You watched his red rimmed hazel eyes trail up your bare legs, and a surprising sense of confidence settled over him. You were wearing a shirt that came down to mid thigh, but the look he was giving you made you feel like you were wearing something far more scandalous. He straightened from his slouch and a smirk pulled at his pretty lips. An arm came up to lean against the door frame, showcasing his already impressive biceps, and allowing a bigger gap in his shirt to see his chest.
“Honey, you can blame me for whatever you want, whenever you want,” he said. “I mean, goddamn, I was already having a good night, but you just made it a million times better. I must've been a saint in another life to get to meet you, sweetheart.”
“Alright, casanova,” you laughed. “I'm glad you’re having fun, but Robin’s not here, so time to go, okay?”
“Who cares?” the man said, pushing away from the door frame to instead lean against it with his shoulder, crossing his arms in front of his chest. his biceps seemed even bigger like that, making you unconsciously lick your lips. “I just met an angel.”
“Says the saint,” you said, unable to help grinning at the cocky man in front of you.
“Or a sinner in need of saving,” he offered with a shrug. “Whatever I am, I'll happily worship you. The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you.”
His tongue slowly traced along his bottom lip, making you flush from head to toe. How were you supposed to respond to that? His hazel eyes remained steady on yours, and you found it impossible to look away.
“I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies,” he whispered, voice rough and husky. “I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death, good god, let me give you my life.”
You blinked, shaking your head slightly to clear the fog of his spell. “Wait. Are you quoting Hozier?”
The man blanched and his eyes widened. “No?”
“Oh my god, you totally are! Take Me to Church. My lover’s got humor; she’s the giggle at a funeral,” your voice was terribly off pitch, but you didn’t care in the slightest. You were having too much fun watching the man cringe. “Knows everybody’s disapproval, I should’ve worshiped her sooner. Who doesn’t know it?”
“Okay, wait-” he said, straightening away from the frame and swaying slightly. He looked unsteady on his feet again, but you weren’t paying attention.
“Have you used that before?” you laughed. “There’s no way it worked.”
“It’s romantic,” he complained, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eye.
“I mean, yeah, he is, but why would you use such well known lyrics? Why not do something like make your good love known to me or just tell me about your day or even honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.”
“I was going off worshiping you but kissing will do. Here, shut the door. Lemme try again.”
You giggled at that, lifting a hand to cover your mouth to try and quiet the noise. The man grinned, thrilled at being able to make you laugh but it turned into a pit when your giggles settled and you shook your head at him.
“No,” you said, still softly smiling. “It’s late. You’re drunk. You need to go home!”
“I just met my soulmate, and you want me to go home?! Take mercy on my poor, drunk soul and give me your name and number at least,” he said as he dramatically slapped a hand to his heart.
“You won’t even remember me in the morning,” you shook your head affectionately.
The man threw his head back and scoffed. “I totally will! I haven’t blacked out in years.”
“Then tonight’s the night.”
“Nope. You’ll be ingrained in my memory, honey.”
He leaned forward again, stumbling slightly with the momentum of his movement. You reached out to catch him, but he waved off, instead pointing a finger in your face. His hazel eyes caught yours and froze you in place and time, and you were certain that even if he woke up tomorrow with no recollection of you, this man and this night would be seared into your mind.
“I was gonna quote more Hozier to you but that was the only song I know.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, unable to stop smiling.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
He was still leaning so close that part of you felt that you could feel his breath across your cheeks. You watched as his gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips again and again. Your heart was racing, racing, racing and god, please don’t let this be a dream. He stepped closer, lifting his hand to rest on your face, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek. His eyes flicked back and forth again, waiting for your permission before he began to slowly lean forward as your eyelids drifted closed.
A hand on your waist shoved you to the side, as a body suddenly pitched forward with a terrible sound. You watched in complete shock as the stranger vomited an endless stream all over the carpet.
Oh, this was a nightmare.
The man groaned, waking you from your stunned state. You quickly grabbed his elbow, carefully guiding him inside and to sit on your couch. He immediately tilted to the side, laying down with his arms wrapped around his stomach. Keeping an eye on him over your shoulder, you hurried to your little kitchenette to grab a piece of tupperware. The man had started to hitch forward just as you made it back to him.
“Here,” you said, shoving the tupperware into his hands. He took it, but was unable to say thank you as he opened his mouth.
Total. Fucking. Nightmare.
A while later, you had cleaned up and were now turning the couch into a bed as the man brushed his teeth in the bathroom. He had argued at first, embarrassed and far more sober than he had been before, but you ignored him. Maybe letting a stranger stay the night wasn’t the smartest choice, but you knew you’d feel terrible if you let him leave sick and drunk with no one to take care of him. You hadn’t told him that though, still annoyed with the circumstances that had gotten you here, and instead banished him to the bathroom to clean up.
You’d just put down the last pillow when the man returned. “Thank you for all this,” he said.
“No problem,” you replied, giving him a quick smile, but your eyes widened as you took him in. He had taken off his jacket and shoes, and his shirt was now completely unbuttoned, showcasing his chest in all its glory. His hair was disheveled and damp, like he had run wet hands through it and his pants sat low on his hips. He looked completely ravished, and for a moment you could only stare as you imagined other ways for him to have gotten there.
“I was gonna call my friend, but uh, my phone’s dead, so…”
“You can borrow my charger,” you said, shaking yourself free from your reverie. “I’ll grab it. Artie is probably hiding in my room right now, so sorry if she wakes you up later?”
“Artie?” he asked.
“My cat,” you explained. “She pretends to be shy, but then goes totally feral, so you might feel some love bites in the night.”
“As long as I can give them back to you,” he said with an easy grin.
“From Artie,” you rolled your eyes and tossed him a pillow. “I’m headed to bed. There’s water and Ibuprofen on the coffee table for when you wake up if I’m not up before you. More blankets are in that closet if you get cold.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I know I said that already, but I mean it. You really didn’t have to do all this.”
“Yeah, well,” you shrugged. “Not every night a drunk stranger wakes you up to flirt and then puke.”
The man cringed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Any chance we can forget about that part?”
“Never,” you laughed. He chuckled at that, making you grin.
“You sure I can’t just start over?” he asked.
“How’re you gonna do that?”
He rolled his neck and straightened, putting on a persona of easy confidence. He still looked partly disheveled with his clothes and his hair, but in that moment it hit you that maybe it was safer for you to have met this man when he was drunk and messy, because if you met him like this persona, sober, confident, and with that teasing smile on his face, you would have fallen in love in a heartbeat.
Instead, you were just confusingly turned on.
“Hey there, I’m Steve,” he said. He held out a hand for you to shake which you did so with a giggle. “Sorry for kinda crashing the party but I just had to introduce myself.”
“By picking an apartment at random?” you teased.
He snapped his fingers, giving you double finger guns and a wink. “You get it!”
“Go to sleep, you dork,” you laughed, walking past him to your room.
“I’ll dream about you!”
#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington#x reader#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#steve harrington x you#fluff#fic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things fic#modern steve harrington#modern stranger things#stranger things x reader
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Humans are weird: fiction
My first attempt at one of those so here goes nothing
Something that i have noticed so far regarding the "humans are weird" theme is that it mainly focuses on brute interactions, not that i am complaining, far from that, i love all of it
But rarely, or as a background / afterthought i see human fiction being presented, the best cases being christmas, video games or the infinite sorrow that comes from nostalgia of a time long gone, and that last one is more historical record keeping than fiction so it barely counts
So what if humans did share what they considered as harmless fiction? What if most alien species only went as far as the boogeyman to keep children in check and that's it?
Could you imagine a human on a spaceship being some freelance space fanfic writer and writing in their free time just because, and when one particularly curious alien crewmate seeks out their writing journal they actually think it's a diary or a journal log and get scared more and more of the seemingly harmless little crewmember, going so far as trying to report them to the captain in an attempt to save the crew (and themself) from Steve: The Gay Dark Overlord (fanfic writer, of course it's gay)
I think it'd be funny
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As Good a Reason - seven
pairing: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️ x reader
summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?
warnings: ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️, cursing, blood, more character deaths, smutty moments but not full spice
word count: 2.6k
Tag list @kandis-mom @casa-boiardi @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @cakesandtom @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn @emerald-writes
a/n: AHHHH HERE'S THE FINAL PART OF AS GOOD A REASON!!!! I know I went MIA for a minute but I'm back. I started a new job and moved states so it's been an absolutely crazy week for me. Going forward, I'm going to be slower with updating and fics will probably only come out once a week. I've been focusing on editing Divine Violence and catching up on my reading stack (my poor kindle is overloaded) but I promise I won't forget about all of you on tumblr <3 <3 <3
six | series masterlist
Victoria is silent during the drive, keeping her stare ahead and out the front window without so much as a single glance to her sister or brother. Y/N keeps shooting glances at Niklaus for explanation but he offers nothing.
“Vic,” she says softly, touching her sister’s shoulder and she flinches at the touch, “Vic what’s wrong?”
She doesn’t answer at first but the second time that her sister asks, she briefly looks back at her and whispers something.
“What did you say?”
Clearing her throat, she says the unthinkable, “Brock made me do it.”
“What did he make you do?” Niklaus says as he leans towards the front seat.
“I didn’t have a choice. He….he said if I loved him, I would do it.”
Steve glances over in concern from the driver’s seat, “What is she going on about?”
“I know just as much as you,” Y/N scoffs before turning to her sister, “Vic what did he make you do?” “He said that if I was a good daughter, I would do it,” she mumbles to herself as she pulls something from under her loose sweatshirt. Steve looks over at her again and slams on the breaks in efforts to stop her from pulling out the weapon. The sudden stop sends everyone flying forward as well the knife Victoria had started to pull out. Steve snatches it up before she can with one hand and has a gun pointed at with the other. The car behind them, the one that Sam and James are in, slams to a halt as well as the two men clamor out.
“What the fuck?” James hisses when he approaches the driver’s side. He narrows his eyes at everyone inside the car and lets out a disappointed sigh when he sees the knife and a shaking Victoria.
“I expected more of you, Victoria Marie,” he scolds her as if she is a child and nods to Sam and Steve. Sam rips the backseat door open and pulls the other two triplets out as Steve hands him the knife.
“What are you doing?” Niklaus sneers at Sam and James but neither of them answer. Y/N tries her hand at getting an answer but again gets nothing aside from a stern look from James. Steve exits the vehicle next as the two are dragged back to the second car. He grabs hold of Y/N who fights him tooth and nail to get out of his hold but it’s useless.
As they’re shoved into the car, they hear a gunshot. Both gasp and let out cries of anger, rage, pain, sadness, anything at all that they’ve felt in the last six years. James joins them in the car, cleaning the barrel of Steve’s gun off on his pant leg. He says nothing as Sam drives off.
The car where Victoria should be in is starting to smoke as flames try to lick up the sides. Y/N looks at him in horror but no reaction.
Two Rumlows gone in the span of two hours.
Who is next?
Five days pass before Y/N leaves her room.
She guarded the door with any piece of furniture she could find and refused to open it unless absolutely necessary. Niklaus, of course, had been the only expectation however he too rarely left his room.
That was until Steve pounded on their doors, demanding that they be downstairs in 15 minutes for a reunion dinner. Y/N scoffs at the idea of having a reunion dinner when all her and her brother want to do is grieve.
Another pound on the door brings her attention back and she takes a sharp breath in before opening it. A black box sits on the ground in front of the door and it takes everything in her to not stomp on the fragile lid. She picks it up and tosses it onto her bed, staring at it as she sits on the floor. It’s similar to the box she got that first night days ago.
Weeks ago.
Months ago?
Honestly at this point, Y/N couldn’t remember how long it had been since she was dragged back to this hell hole of a city and had her life turned upside down. All she knows is that the grip that James had on her is growing tighter everyday. It’s becoming suffocating, squeezing out any breath that she tries to take and that box on her bed is a physical reminder of the hand that’s always wrapped around her throat.
She climbs to her feet and hesitantly takes a seat next to the box, contemplating whether or not she should let the hand control her even more. A thought crosses her mind, one that chills her to the bone.
What would James do to Klaus?
Her fingers quickly flick open the box and the lid slides back to reveal a gold necklace sitting on black tissue paper. She lets out a deep sigh at the theatrics that James puts into everything that he does. Picking up the necklace, Y/N scoffs as she looks it over. Of course, he would ask…command her to wear a necklace with his name on it.
However as her fingers pick it up, they catch on the paper to show a bundle of black gleaming fabric. She pulls the paper back even more and takes out the dress he’s also silently demanding that she wears. It’s a mid length square neck dress that will no doubt show off everything she wants to hide from men like James.
Sneering at both disgusting gifts, she throws them back into the box and shoves it off her bed. It clatters to the floor as she stares at it in anger, a deep feral anger that needs to be released. This anger accepts only one payment though and that is blood. More specifically that of the White Wolf’s.
Only the sounds of clanking silverware and the occasional conversation between James and his men. Niklaus and Y/N stayed silent from the moment they saw each other in the hall. He glared at the dress and necklace she wore and she wanted desperately to tell him it was all a facade but she couldn’t without tipping off the men around them. She could see the palpable anger in his eyes, the hurt that flashed when he read the name that claimed her throat. She tried to convey with her eyes that it would all end tonight but he looked away too quickly and went back to eating.
The dining room is much like the rest of the house, black and devoid of any emotion. She wants to make a remark about it mirroring the inside of the owner’s heart but one quick glance to the head of the table keeps it locked behind her painted lips.
James, ever the regal mafia leader, is leaning back in his chair as he watches over his subjects. Surprisingly he’s only wearing a half buttoned black short sleeve and black slacks. Y/N pretends to trail her eyes over the tanned skin that is on display and when she lands on his face, there is a smirk welcoming her heated gaze. He takes a swallow of his favored amber liquid without breaking eye contact with her. A shiver of disgust wants to wash over her body but she suppresses it as Sam speaks. He drones on about whatever useless business he and Steve dealt with today, no doubt so insignificant that if Klaus or Y/N tried to use it against them, it would do nothing. She knew this routine well; dangle pieces of information before their enemies in efforts to get them to strike. Brock had done it time and time again to the point that the remaining Triplets knew it well. Well enough to not take the bait.
Dinner slowly comes to an end as servants take away the empty places, leaving all of the guests to glare at each other. Y/N’s fingers tap lightly on the steak knife that remains, drawing attention to it and Steve motions for it to be taken away. James chuckles under his breath as he watches the interaction but says nothing. Y/N smirks on the inside but puts on a face of frustration.
Both her and the White Wolf knew that if she was going to try something, she wouldn’t have been so obvious as to grab a steak knife. No, James knows that it’s a distraction but he wants to watch her plan unfold before stopping her.
His sharp eyes meet hers again and they pin her to her seat. She sees his mouth move but she can’t hear the words that come out. She guesses that he dismissed everyone from the way that everyone clears out of the room , leaving them alone. Niklaus shoots her a glance before Sam pushes him out and she gives her brother a small nod.
I’ll be okay.
Niklaus doesn’t fight Sam because he knows that she will be but it does little to calm the rising fear. He nods back.
Be careful.
She smiles at him, covering her sinister plan with sibling love.
Once the door is closed and they are finally alone, Y/N settles her gaze back on James who had been watching the interaction. He sits his glass on the arm of his chair as he looks her over. A twinkle of something positively feral flashes in his eye when he takes in the necklace and dress she is wearing.
“I figured it better to comply,” she offers as she takes a sip of her wine.
“Comply?” he questions, “You make it sound like I’m a tyrant.”
“You’re far worse.”
James lets out a deep laugh that’s more animal like than human, “If I were then your brother’s head would’ve been served for dinner.”
Y/N takes another slow sip of her wine to hide her seething anger at the suggestion.
“And then I would’ve taken you in front of the others.”
She turns to narrow her eyes at him, “What if I said no?”
“You won’t have.”
“How can you be so sure?” The glass of his cup clinks on the table as he sits it on the table before him, “Look at what you’re wearing. I’d say that is a pretty good indication that you wouldn’t say that to me.”
She rolls her eyes at him and sits her own glass on the table. Taking a deep breath, she prepares herself for her next move. Before James can say another vile thing, she quickly stands and walks to the head of the table. Perching herself on the table just beside him, Y/N gently pushes at the arm of James’ chair. Taking the hint, he moves back an inch and takes her by the hips to pull her in front of him. She had only been this close to him a handful of times but every time it’s just as terrifying as the last. His cold attitude extends to the air that circles him and now her. His scent of leather, guns, and blood engulf her and caress the sides of her face as he watches her every move.
In another life, she knew that she would’ve fallen for him. She could see the charm and confidence that he would use on her to get her into bed. She could see the way that he would shower her with gifts to the point where she would have to beg him to stop. She could see how he would laugh when he kissed up her neck, claiming that she would never have enough and would never stop giving her the world.
However now with the predatory look in his eye, she’s not sure that he would ever be the James that she pictured in her head. This man, the White Wolf, is the image of pure evil down to the way that he lazily smiles up at her, a dark look swimming in his equally darkening eyes.
“Don’t pull anything stupid, little snake,” he murmurs to her as he drinks in the way his name lays on her breasts.
“Who said I was going to do anything?” she murmurs back as she leans down into his space.
“I know that look.”
She bats her lashes at him, fiending innocence and he laughs again, that deep rumble in his chest squeezing the air from her lungs. His right hand makes a slow climb up her arm as she leans down and finds its place on her throat, just above where his name sits on its golden chain. His thumb rubs her jaw, tipping her face down by her chin so he can look at her better. His tongue swipes his bottom lip as he appreciates the red painted on hers.
“We both know you’re not some stupid innocent doll,” he whispers to her, “You’re my little snake, clever and deadly.”
“Are you my White Wolf then?”
James smirks at her question and draws her closer, “That depends.”
“On?”
“If you plan to keep trying to kill me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she whispers against his lips before kissing him. His soft lips move against hers in a slow but domineering way, control every slide and move they make. The hand around her neck slips into her loose hair while his other hand pulls her by the hips onto his lap and slips up on her lower back. Under her, she can feel the hardness forming in his pants and she stifled a moan at the feeling of him moving against her. One of her hands tangles into her hair, pulling at it so his head falls back and she descends upon his neck.
Y/N leaves wet kisses on his jaw and down his neck as they move against each other, gasps and moans leaving both of them. In their desperation to devour each other, James didn’t notice that her other hand was nowhere to be felt on his body nor did he see the flash of silver in the fire light.
“Fuck,” he chokes out when that flash of silver hides a place in between his sixth and seventh rib. Y/N quickly pulls the small dinner knife out and plunges back into the same area. The shock of her attack and the pain that is growing hot in his side stop him from pushing her off or defending himself in other ways.
She pulls away, still sitting on top of him with the bloody knife in her hand and gives him a small smile. He breathlessly chuckles at the sight, “Wouldn’t dream of it?”
“It’s not a dream anymore,” she offers with a small shrug.
James drops his hands from her body as she slides off and lets her knife on the table just out of his reach. The attack on his spleen will cause him to bleed out slowly enough that he will feel every moment of it but fast enough that there would be nothing anyone could do to help him. They both know it and he wants to laugh again at the situation but the pain prevents him from doing so.
“Why?” he asks, almost too quiet for her to hear but she does. She pauses at the door to answer him.
“Spite.”
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes#mob au#bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes imagine#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes and reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#as good a reason bucky barnes#dark bucky x reader#dark bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#marvel imagine#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes reader insert#mob bucky barnes#mob bucky x reader
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Another Sambucky story I would really want to write when my brain allows me to do it would be the one that really focuses on their loneliness. Because I feel like it’s something very deeply ingrained in both of these characters that’s surprisingly rarely explored in stories - especially when it comes to Sam.
I feel like Sam and Bucky have a natural talent for forming quick bonds with people. Even Bucky, despite... everything... seemed to have an easy time talking to Leah, Ayo, Sam’s family, or Sam himself after knowing them for a relatively short time. Sam, meanwhile, has an important connection with his community, became friends with Steve in an instant, and seemed to be acquainted with most Avengers after knowing them for a rather short time.
It looks like they want to and could potentially have a social life.
But at the same time... they’re so wildly independent and stubborn that they keep putting a barrier between themselves and other people. Bucky, by not responding to messages, going into hiding, or literally putting himself in a freezer. And Sam, by leaving for the military, then living far away from his family in DC, or by going on missions alone, instead of asking for help.
(Not to mention that Sam had dropped his job at the VA and life in DC without a second of regret, so I doubt he had a flourishing social life or a bunch of close friends who’d noticed that he’s gone.)
So, to sum up... Sam and Bucky both want to connect with people, however, these relations seem very surface level and short-lived - even if they’re genuine. Because they often prefer to be alone, but push it a bit too far at times. Or because they’re at a point in their life when they just can’t allow themselves to have friends, let alone a partner - Hydra, military, being a fugitive... or being dead.
And... finally. I’d love to explore how Bucky is the only person who’s truly able to break Sam’s barriers and emotional defenses (and vice versa). How no one else could get so close to them except for the other, because they crave the human contact and closeness, but nobody understood them well enough, until now, to make the relationship actually meaningful.
#i just want these two grown men#to admit that they're lonely#and it's becoming too much to bear#...#while holding hands#okay?#sam wilson#samuel thomas wilson#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes#captain america#captain america sam wilson#winter soldier#white wolf#sambucky#sam x bucky#onlysambucky#winterfalcon#mcu#marvel
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Some Old Favorites
I was reminiscing, looking back through my masterlists, and I wanted to reshare some smutty fics. They didn’t get a lot of love back in the day because I didn’t have many readers yet. Some of you have found them and loved to read them as much as I loved to write them. But I wanted to share them with some of my new friends/followers too. Happy Reading!
DC Comics:
Two Hoods, One Revenge: The reader has nightmares of the day that turned her into a vigilante. Jason helps her keep them at bay; first with soothing words, then with something more hot and heavy.
Hickey Victory: Dick gets his hands on a marshmallow gun… but he forgets about your nerf gun stash. Shenanigans occur.
A Night at the Theater: A mission demands the public appearance of Bruce Wayne and yourself at a theater. The mission is quickly put to rest, which leaves you plenty of time to appreciate your husband during intermission.
A Nightly Affair: Nightwing keeps mistaking your apartment for his and you two grow very close. Very. Close. So close as to put you in danger, unless Nightwing can find you first. [Series Masterlist]
Marvel:
In the Eye of the Beholder: Part 1 | Part 2 : The reader gives an unexpected lap dance. Bucky approves.
All in a Night’s Work: The reader come face to face with the sniper that has been evading them for years. When things don’t go according to plan, Loki distracts them till they can get some much-needed rest.
Dirty Lips: When Y/N introduces a swear jar to the team, Steve takes it upon himself to fill it all by himself.
To Love the Sea: Y/N is the daughter of a sea-side innkeeper. The area is known for its draw for pirates, but one pirate is feared above all others: Captain Loki. He offers to take her on adventures; is she willing to take the plunge? [Series Masterlist]
Supernatural:
The Pointy End: You are research headquarters at the bunker while Dean, Sam, and occasionally Cas, are on cases. Dean comes home to you after a very long case, with a surprise. (My very first fic!)
Deep in the Archives: Sam takes the reader to a rare books library while they look for a spell book not at the bunker. The reader is focused on the task, but Sam’s roaming hands are a distraction.
Satisfied: An imagine of Castiel using his grace on you.
SPN History Challenge: A Werewolf in Whitechapel: The Winchesters and the reader go to London during the Whitechapel murders, also known as the Jack the Ripper murders, with the theory that the perpetrator is not human. They are correct, but when the killings don’t stop, the team has to retrace their steps and riddle out what stone they left unturned. Written for @kittenofdoomage and @saxxxology-main SPN History Challenge.
Boxer!Dean AU: Consequences: Y/N gets dragged to a boxing match by her friends where she meets Dean “Raisin’ Cain” Winchester, a boxer who is forced to win or lose depending on how much money his bosses want to make in matches. Can their combined effort break the fixed boxing ring? [Series Masterlist] (No smut, but still a favorite)
Wrestling Fics:
Chiffon in the Streets, Lace in the Sheets: The reader and Elias are newly married and ready to enjoy their first night as man and wife, but a few things get in the way first. (WWE)
Dangerous: After defending herself at a bar, Y/N impresses the dark figure sitting in the corner booth. Prince Devitt further impresses her. One thing leads to another, and she welcomes knowing him better. (NJPW)
A Reflection of Us: The reader gets a slight injury in a match. Roman takes his time making sure the reader is safe but very satisfied. (WWE)
Troublemaker: The reader ran off with something belonging to Kenny Omega. He makes sure she pays for it. (NJPW/AEW)
Doubt Comes In: While Rosemary battles Su Yung in the Underworld, Y/N meets and welcomes a new face to TNA. But two battles are raging instead of one. If Y/N is victorious, can she settle the insecurities in Rosemary’s mind? (Answered request) (TNA)
Sister in Arms: Finn can’t seem to shake the effects of his feud with Bray Wyatt, so an old friend comes to help. Then Y/N finds herself battling on two fronts: in the ring and in her mind. [Series Masterlist] (WWE)
#dc comics fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#aew fanfiction#wwe fanfiction#njpw fanfiction#tna fanfiction#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x reader#red hood x reader#nightwing x reader#bruce wayne x reader#bucky barnes x reader#loki x reader#steve rogers x reader#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester x reader#castiel x reader#wwe x reader#aew x reader#tna x reader#njpw x reader
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saw my tumblr notification for your previous anon and OH MY FUCKING HELL I WOULD LOOOOOVE TO GET THE BATHROOM SCENE FROM STEVE’S POV 💖💖💖
I’ve already told you before that your writing is STELLAR and I know that no matter what you write, it’ll be absolute gold. *chef’s kiss* 🤌🏻
I have to say also that GOH is absolutely KILLING ME in the best ways. love love love the slow burn and the mystery behind what’s been happening in the latest chapters, aaaaa. :’) keep up the amazing work, my friend, and please make sure that you take breaks should you need them!! 💕
I got a lot of requests for this so I hope my anons find this one <3
RAINING HELLFIRE (READER'S VERSION)
Word Count: 3672
Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, mentions of torture
Set in RH3: Chapter 12: Uncle Jack
Find all Raining Hellfire works here <3
Summary: While you try and find your previously abandoned radio in hopes of contacting help, Steve and Robin slip away from their cinema experience to end up in the bathroom, sharing truths about their lives they never admitted before.
[A/N: Welcome to our new little series I am calling 'Raining Hellfire (Reader's Version)' where you can request a scene that I either hadn't written into RH originally or a POV of a different character :) shout out to the nonnie that suggested this <3]
RH3: STEVE'S EPIPHANY
“The ceiling stopped spinning for me.”
Robin’s voice echoed out as Steve flushes away his latest creation, stomach lurching while he wipes away the clinging spit.
“Is it still spinning for you?”
Steve rests his back against a ceramic tiled wall and tilts his head upwards. He focuses for a second.
“Holy shit.” He sounds, still feeling light-headed. “No. You think we puked it all up?”
“Maybe.” Robin says from the cubicle beside his. “Ask me something. Interrogate me.”
“Okay. Interrogate you, sure.” He tries to straighten himself a little, ignoring the dull pain in his face. “Um… When was the last time you, uh… peed your pants?”
“Today.” She responds quickly, voice airy.
“What?” Steve smirks.
“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw.”
“Oh my god.” Steve chuckles and Robin laughs.
“It was just a little bit though.” She giggles and Steve shakes his head in amusement.
“Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.” He mutters, rubbing the eye that hadn’t been battered by Russian spies. Of course Dustin’s brilliant plan involved yet another concussion.
“All right, my turn.” Robin announces after her laughter died down, a smile in her voice.
“Okay, hit me.” His head was starting to throb and he was seriously missing his truth serum right about now.
“Have you… ever been in love?”
“Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” He says, not really putting much thought into the answer. He imitates a gun with his fingers and shoots at his heart.
“Oh my god.” He could practically hear Robin’s eye roll. “She’s such a priss.”
“Hm.” Steve nods, remembering a time when he thought the same. “Turns out, not really.”
“Are you still in love with Nancy?”
“No.”
A wave of shock struck him when he answered without a thought, reeling in his own response. Was he really over her?
“Why not?”
This time, his thoughts are swirling around like the ice-cream machine they rarely ever used, clouding his eyes with one image. One very specific image. And he smiles.
“I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” He chuckles. “It’s crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been saying, you know, you gotta find your Suzie, you gotta find your Suzie...”
Steve blinks and the image reappears again. Dustin’s rant about Steve finding love had never left his mind.
“Uh, I guess I don’t totally know what I’m looking for.” Steve states, staring through the binoculars and being anything but covert. But Dustin could be on to something and he desperately needed a break from slinging ice-creams all day.
“Evil Russians.” Dustin replies simply and he roll his eyes.
“Yeah, exactly.” Steve nods, “I don’t know what an evil Russian looks like.”
“Tall. Blonde. Not smiling.” Dustin offers as Steve continues to navigate the binoculars. “Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing.”
“Right, duffel bags.” Steve repeats. He takes another moment before letting out a breath. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?”
“Anna Jacobi’s talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky.” Steve complains, staring as she cosies up to the worst player he ever teamed with in his life.
“Dude, if you’re not gonna focus, just gimme the binoculars.”
“Aw, Jesus Christ,” Steve continues, ignoring the boy next to him, “Whatever happened to standards? I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench.”
“Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?” Dustin reaches out and snatches away the binoculars, resulting in a small fight as Steve struggled with the strap around his neck.
When Dustin won the binocular war, he places the binoculars in front of his eyes. “I don’t get why you’re looking at girls, anyway. You have the perfect one in front of you.”
“Seriously,” Steve sighs, already knowing where he’s going, “If you say Y/n again-”
“Y/n.” Dustin says anyway.
“No, don’t. No.”
“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n.”
“Stop, no.”
“Y/n.” Dustin repeats over and over before throwing a curveball. “Robin?”
“No- Robin?” Steve raises his eyebrow. “Really?”
“Right.” Dustin nods. “‘Cause you like Y/n.”
“I don’t-” Steve takes a breath, noticing Dustin’s unimpressed look. “No, man, she’s not my type. She’s not even… in the ballpark of what my type is, all right?”
“What’s your type again?” Dustin asks with a side-eye. “Not awesome?”
“Thank you.” Steve sarcastically smiles, suddenly wondering where you were right now. You had said something about spending the day with Max and El, but that was all he had heard from you since last night. He remembered that smile you had given him before you drove off, a small wave as you promised to catch up on the ‘little Russian espionage’ later.
“Hm, right.” Dustin smirked and Steve looked back to him. “That lovesick face says it all.”
“I’m not-” Steve lets out a frustrated sigh. “She’s not my type, okay? Just friends.”
“Let’s see.” Dustin lowers the binoculars to count on his fingers. “Funny? Check. Smart? Check. Pretty? Double check.”
“Still in love with her ex? Check.” Steve says and Dustin’s face falls.
“What? No.” He pouts and Steve nods.
“Yeah, well. Good for him.” He looks ahead, trying not to think about how much that hurt him.
“At least you’re not in high school anymore.” Dustin shrugs and Steve looks at him.
“How has that got anything to do with anything?”
“Look, Steve.” Dustin gestures to the mall in front of them and Steve looks… confused. Dustin sighs. “There’s a whole world of girls out there. Instead of dating somebody you think’s gonna make you cooler, why not date somebody you actually enjoy being around? Like me and Suzie.”
“Yeah, you mean, ‘hotter than Phoebe Cates’. Yeah, that Suzie.” Steve recalls with a snarky tone, “And, uh, let’s think about- how exactly did you score that beautiful girlfriend? Oh, yeah. With my advice. Because that’s how this works, Henderson. I give you the advice, you follow through. Not the other way around, all right, pea-brain?”
“And how’s your advice working for you?” Dustin challenges, his eyes narrowing in his own amusement.
“Wait, who’s Suzie?” Robin asks and snaps him back into the moment. He blinks, running a hand through his hair.
“It’s some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend.” He shakes his head, trying to push away the growing beating of his brain against his skull. “To be honest with you, I’m not 100% sure she’s even real.”
“But that’s not- that’s not really the point. The point is this girl, you know, the one that I like, it’s somebody that I… I lost touch with in school. And I don’t even know why.” Steve continues, sighing. “Maybe ‘cause Tommy H. would’ve made fun of me or… I wouldn’t be… prom king. It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should have been hanging out with this girl the whole time. First of all she’s hilarious. She’s so funny. I feel like ever since last November, I have laughed harder than I have laughed… in a really long time. And- and she’s the only person in this whole world I feel like will understand me, you know? Not judge me.”
“Really?” Robin chirps up with a smile in her voice. “Sounds like she loves being around you.”
“Yeah...” Steve’s face slowly falls.
Steve closes the space, resting his head against your forehead. His heart raced faster as he pushed aside his fear. “I love you, Y/n.”
When you don’t respond, he moves his body closer, lifting his head to search your face for something to give him hope. “Please, say something.”
Every second you didn’t react was agony. He could see the tear trickling down your cheek, his brows furrowing.
And then you reached out, placing your hands over his. That little jolt of electricity, the one that give him hope, the one that never failed.
Until now.
You gently unclasp his hand and take your keys, never raising your head, never meeting his eyes.
“I..” You start, lips squeezing together. “I don’t feel the same way about you. Never have. Never… never will.”
Steve feels his entire soul shatter into a thousand pieces.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you turn from him, getting in your car without so much as a second glance.
He’s stood there, paralysed in his own heartbreak. He thought… you and him…
How could he have been so stupid?
“Steve?” Robin calls out and he clears his throat.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here.” He nods, rubbing his eye. “It’s just… I thought, you know, this girl was… everything. And…”
“And?”
“And she wasn’t even real.” He spoke, lowering his head. “I really should have taken Dustin’s advice. The kid knows zilch about love but… but he knows people better than I do sometimes. Told me Nancy was out of my league. Not in a bad way just, like…”
“Like you weren’t meant to be together?” She suggests and Steve hums.
“Yeah, exactly.” He laughs after a moment, “You ever… you ever had that?”
He rubs his face again, looking to the cubicle wall that separated them. She’s being quiet and he frowns, tapping on the plastic. “Robin? Robin, did you just OD in there?”
“No.” She finally says, sighing. “I… am still alive.”
“Did I say something wrong?” He asks and she lets out another sigh.
After another block of silence, he can’t take it anymore and scoots over to the wall, gripping onto the underside and pulling himself through, slow enough to avoid crashing into Robin on the other side. He decided it best to ignore how wet the floor felt on his back.
“The floor’s disgusting.” She comments as he sits back up, facing his friend.
“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” He waves his hands, brushing it away. “What do you think?”
“About?” She blinks, but he knows she’s aware.
“Destined to fail romances?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You ever had that with a guy before?”
“Something like that.” She says and he groans.
“Come on, you don’t have to be all mysterious.” He laughs, nudging her knee with his. “I can tell when you’re being weird, I’ve known you-”
“That’s it. You don’t.” She interrupts, brows knitted. When he frowns, she bites her lip and leans forward. “Look… you don’t really know me. And if you did, like – like really know me… I don’t think you’d even want to be my friend.”
“No, that’s not true, no way is that true-”
“Listen to me, Steve. It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you. But I’m not like your other friends.” She shakes her head. “I’m not even… I don’t…”
Steve leans forward, “What’s going on?”
“Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?” Robin questions and he slowly nods. “It isn’t because I had a crush on you.”
He blinks, holding his breath. Now he felt really foolish for even thinking it.
“It’s because…” She continues, and he keeps his silence. “She wouldn’t stop staring at you.”
“Mrs Click?” He frowns in confusion and she laughs, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Tammy Thompson.” She finally says, nodding. “I wanted her to look at me. But… she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair. And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions. And I watched you fall in love Freshman year with a girl you ended up treating like shit because you wanted to be a douchebag. And- And you didn’t even like Tammy Thompson and… and I would go home and just scream into my pillow.”
“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.” Steve shook his head, the drug still wavy in his brain.
“Steve.” Robin says softly and he slowly feels his face fall, realisation finally hitting him in a moment of clarity.
“Oh.” He finally sounds, blinking.
“Oh.” She repeats, laughing sadly.
“Holy shit.” He leans back. Talk about deja vu.
Steve didn’t realise how silent he was being. It wasn’t because of shock or hatred or anything like that. It was because he was taken back to Skull Rock all over again. Sat beside you. Your fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt, a scared look in your eye. The relief on your face when he said he didn’t care who you liked, just who you were. A happiness in your trust.
That shattered image when you found out he had taken that trust for granted.
He didn’t want it to be like that this time. No wrong words, no broken promises. He didn’t want to make anyone feel that destroyed ever again.
“Steve… did you OD over there?”
“No, I just, uh… just thinking.” He slowly nods, “I mean, yeah. Tammy Thompson, you know, she’s cute and all, but… I mean, she’s a total dud.”
“She is not.”
“Yes she is. She wants to be, like, a singer. She wants to move to, like, Nashville and shit.”
“She has dreams.” Robin tries but he’s shaking his head.
“She can’t even hold a tune.” He expresses, trying to think of a descriptor. “She’s practically tone-deaf. Have you heard her?”
As Robin laughs, he mimics Tammy’s voice in the school choir, making it as nasally as he could.
“She does not sound like that-”
“She sounds exactly like that. That’s a great impression of her.”
“You sound like a Muppet.” Robin comments and Steve laughs.
“She sounds like a Muppet. She sounds like a Muppet giving birth.” Steve chuckles and Robin can’t help but agree, giggling. “Literally ask anyone, ask Y/n, she was there. It was an hour of torture, like, even the Russians couldn’t beat that.”
“Okay, okay.” Robin clutches her stomach, shaking her head. “You’re right, okay? She sounds horrible.”
“Thank you.” He grins, head resting against the wall, “You could do so much better.”
“Like Y/n?”
Steve practically jolts, eyes wide. How did she know? Did he tell her? Was he rambling about it and didn’t realise? When did-
“Steve.” She smiles, tilting her head. “I know who ‘the girl’ is, I’m not dumb.”
He mentally lets out a sigh of relief before focusing on her comment. “It’s not… I don’t know.”
“God, you two are in love with eachother.” She scoffs, meeting his unconvinced eyes. “Seriously. It’s suffocating being around you two, it’s flirt city.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Steve sighs.
“No shit, there’s no way I’m going back to work after that, they don’t pay me enough to be interrogated by secret-”
“No, Robin, I mean me and Y/n.” He says quickly and she stops, frowning. He sighs again. “It… there wasn’t…”
When he couldn’t find the words, Robin leaned forward.
“What happened between you two anyway?” Robin prompts and he furrows his brows, shaking his head.
“What-”
“Last night. Or… heck, I don’t know how long it’s been.” She shrugs. “When Y/n ran out. After that really intense moment of her talking about being taken advantage of – which I totally agree with her by the way- but... she was clearly upset about something. And you followed her. But when you came back…”
She takes a breath.
“You looked…”
“I looked?” He asks, stomach churning.
“Heart-broken.”
“I don’t feel the same way about you. Never have. Never… never will.”
“There.” She points at his face and he bats her finger away. “Right there. That look.”
He covers his face with a groan, resting his head in his hands.
“I mean… if there would be any time to open up to me, it would definitely be after I just told you I’m a lesbian.” She snickers and he can’t resist the laugh, “Don’t tell me… you’re also gay?”
“No.” He chuckles and she smiles, leaning back. “But I am definitely going to be alone for the rest of my life.”
“I don’t believe that.” She scrunches her face as if the thought was stupid. “You’re Steve Harrington. Any girl would be fantasising about spending their life with you.”
“Not the one that matters.” He admits quietly and she straightens, her eyes wide. Steve takes a breath. “When I caught up to her…”
“Please, say something.”
“… I…” He sighs, rubbing his face. “God, I am an idiot.”
“Why?”
“I told her I loved her.” He finally blurts, wincing at the silence that ensued.
“Woah.” She comments, nodding slowly. He simply nods with her, eyes fixed on the black mark staining the wall behind her. “And I’m guessing she didn’t…”
“No.” He purses his lips, sniffing. “It’s fine, though. At least I know now, right? Won’t be… won’t be wondering that for the rest of my life.”
“She lied.”
His head whips up. “Uh, what?”
“She lied.” Robin repeats, looking serious. “I may have only just met her at the beginning of summer, but I like to think I know her. I see how she looks at you. I can even hear it in her voice when she talks about you and… and there’s a reason she hasn’t been dating anyone.”
“Because she’s still hung up about Eddie.” He sighs and she whacks his knee. “Ow!”
“No, dingus! Because she’s hung up about you!” She exclaims, “God, you are both so oblivious, it actually hurts.”
Steve rubs his knee, shaking his head. “She still likes Eddie.”
“And yet, she chose you.” Robin expresses with her hands and he frowns.
“What do you mean she chose me?”
“Because of the-” Her face falls. Either she was going to puke again or she had just realised something important because her skin started to pale a shade. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“No, Robin, tell me.” He inches forward slightly, eyes wide. “Because of what?”
She bites her lips, obviously trying to hold something in.
“She told you something, didn’t she?” He interrogates, watching her face go paler from the strain of keeping a secret. “What didn’t she tell me? Robin. Robin!”
And with that, she snaps.
“You’re kinda maybe one of the reasons she and Eddie aren’t together anymore but it’s also not your fault ‘cause there was no trust between them in the end anyway, and she was never going to let your friendship die again especially since you guys apparently went through so much together last year and she’s already lost you twice because of some petty arguments or something like that so she decided to let Eddie go so she could keep you because out of everyone, you make her feel the happiest she has in a really long time.”
Robin takes a long breath as she physically deflates against the wall, chest rising heavily.
“If she ever asks… it took a lot more than that to get me to spill.” She grimaces, waiting for his reaction.
You had never told him why you and Eddie broke up. Not truly. He remembers the first time you told him, sat on a bench outside the high school, your eyes threatening tears. You told him that you think you broke Eddie’s heart, but you weren’t ready to talk then. Ever since, you just alluded to the idea that you weren’t right for eachother, that it was better for you both to be apart. Never did you admit it was because of Steve.
And now he was conflicted. How should he be feeling about this? Angry? Confused? Sad?
“How am I… the reason?” He asks softly, fixated on his shoelaces.
“I don’t know the full details.” Robin says, “But I know that she has to love you too.”
“Rob-”
“No, just listen.” She interrupts and he takes a breath, meeting her eyes. “Don’t give up. Considering all the weird shit that just happened back there, and the fact that neither of you seem at all phased by the fact we were tortured by Russians living underneath us, I can only assume that she had a lot going on. Give her time, okay? Take it from someone who has an exceptionally sad life of watching other people fall in love, you two are made for eachother.”
“Right.” Steve nods before shaking his head again. “What if she meant it? That she didn’t… what if-”
Robin lets out a groan. “Just stop being a dingus and take my advice.”
“Not sure how I feel about taking advice from someone who had a crush on Tammy Thompson.” He retorts and she looks offended.
“Wha- hey!”
“We’ll be holding on forever!” Steve imitates Kermit the Frog and she buries her face in her hands, laughing.
The bathroom door bursts open and two kids walk in, one looking severely pissed at Steve.
“Okay, what the hell?!” Dustin frowns, hands on hips.
Steve draws his eyes back to Robin’s and they burst into laughter again, uncontrollably.
“It’s not funny!” Dustin stresses, only making them laugh harder. He shoots a glare at Steve before Erica steps forward.
“Y/n is missing!” She shouts and the two finally quit their giggling.
“What?” Steve chuckles, unsure if he heard her right.
“Y/n went looking for help about twenty minutes ago.” Dustin explains, and Steve’s heart races faster. “And she hasn’t come back.”
“So we better stop chit-chatting like little girls at a sleepover and get the hell out of here before the Russians find us.” Erica remarks, rolling her eyes when nobody moves. “Now.”
“Wait.” Steve scrambles to his feet, Robin slowly but surely following his action. “Y/n-where- where did she go?”
“Her radio.” Dustin sighs, pulling a face when Steve shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, we don’t have time to explain everything to you, she went out to get her radio but she hasn’t come back.”
“Let’s go, we’ll find her later.” Erica stresses, already opening the door and motioning for them to get out.
“I’m not leaving this mall without her.” Steve promises, wiping his lip and heading for the door, more determined than ever.
if you would like to request a new pov scene for the Raining Hellfire universe, please feel free to put it into my ask box and I'll get to it when I am available :)
#stranger things x reader#stranger things#fanfic#steve harrington#raining hellfire#steve harrington x reader#robin buckley#platonic stobin#dustin henderson#erica sinclair#stranger things imagine#stranger things reader insert#st3#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic
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i love your writing. interviewer voice can you tell us a little bit about the process behind the scenes? like are you and outline guy or do you wing it. do you write in microsoft word or some other program. are there certain things you keep in the back of your mind about the characters as you write. etc
oh thank you :’) i really don’t have much Of a process quite honestly, i just kinda go!! typically i do write fics in order, only pretty rarely do i start with one scene further along into the story and then go back and build around it (ive done this with one im working on rn and its kinda gotten me stuck so……idk how people do that consistently 😭) i’ve dabbled in outlines but i usually end up thinking of something While i’m writing and just adding it in at that time since im on the doc anyways…then i never go back and add it to the outline, so the outlines always get abandoned. most of my planning and conceptualizing happens in the tumblr dm’s with em @lesbianrobin tbh!! and i use google docs <3 there’s probably like. at least 100 unfinished fics in my google docs <3 as for keeping certain things in mind, i really just try to adhere to whichever canon im focused on (which is usually Mostly actual canon with a little tweaks like making hopper alive and in hawkins post s3 or building off canon like with details i made up about steve’s life) and try to remember the characters canonical voices. sometimes if im having trouble i’ll watch a clip or two and just try to remind myself of the cadence that characters talk in. and i just kinda vibe <3
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hello! this is my first time trying this, but I’d love to find new rp partners so let’s give it a try! i’m in my early 20s, transmasc, and looking for people 18+ of any gender for fandom roleplay.
I’m used to discord, but open to other platforms. and even though this is an individual ad, if you have a private group or something I’d be open to that too! length wise I match, as long as it’s at least a paragraph or so—no one liners please!
i’m pretty much only looking for m x m and cc x cc. if you have a good oc x oc idea i’m open to hearing it though! please no oc x cc.
I don’t mind playing multiple characters/doubling up on ships! I’d love to create a whole world together.
i am nsfw and 🕊️ friendly but also fine with fully sfw storylines! if nsfw is going to be included, I would like the rp to be focused on plot before smut.
onto fandoms! i’ll list some ships or characters i’m interested in as well. (bold is the character i would like you to play, regular text is who I’d want to play)
stranger things
mike x will
lucas x will
jonathan x steve
eddie x steve (i can play either!)
billy x anyone really
it (can be bookverse, movie verse, or 90s verse)
eddie x richie
bill x richie (i love this ship in particular even though its pretty rare)
bill x eddie
bill x mike (i can play either)
bev & richie (strictly platonic but i love their relationship)
bev x mike (yeah it’s rare and i don’t usually write much f x m but I’m putting it out there anyway)
stuff within the bully group is something I’m open to as well, no particular ships in mind though.
horror in general
if there’s any horror canon you’re looking to rp, just ask! the genre is my special interest so I’ve consumed a lot. (movies, books, or live action shows, that is. I don’t watch anime and I suck at video games haha.)
chatting ooc is welcome if you’d like to! we can make playlists or moodboards or any of that fun stuff, and I have cats I love to share pics of. if you’d prefer we keep it strictly rp then that’s cool too!
please interact with this post if you’re interested and i’ll reach out! tysm!
👻
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Loved your Steve child model au, esp because it focuses on Steve making his looks part of his personality. I wish the show would go into Steve's injuries more. We know he likes the way he looks and is a bit vain about it. If they never bring up the demobat scars again, what was the point? Because realistically he would struggle with it. Even prior to that his face should be littered with scars, his nose should look a bit wonky. I would love to see him coming to terms with his new look and how he will act because of it. Like you said I feel like Steve thinks beauty is all he has, he doesn't think he's smart enough, all his has is his looks and charms but if that gets taken away who really is he? I know the show won't ever acknowledge Steve's trauma, we would be lucky if the neck scar is visible in s5 but man. Sorry for this rant here
THANK YOU SO MUCH. i have literally been ruminating about this concept for ages, mentally begging someone to catch my brainwaves and write it. but unforch... it hasn't worked. had to get my little brain worm out in the form of word vomit, BUT I AM SO GLAD YOU GET THE VISION.
like he's constantly looking at the mirror pre-stranger things to make sure he's always looking perfect but after billy and starcourt, he can't help but look at the imperfections on his face. i don't think he's stop using mirror TOTALLY but i feel like at a certain point, he'd consider his BODY his appeal.
i think that him striking out in scoops would just validate his feelings about his looks, and make him feel even more like a Loser because could he even trust his fallback anymore? and just the crushing low self esteem because he thinks that all he has is being pretty, and when he loses that, then what is he?
and my theory is that when he does modeling on the side after his parents cut him off, photographers also point out his flaws and some of them end up trying to cover up his scars with make up or take focus away from his face. but he continues on because he Needs the Money. and at least he still has something attractive about him.
WHICH leading to family video, i think that steve would try to change his mannerisms to purposely bring attention to his figure and emphasize what he considers his best asset. only for his thoughts to be validated because he starts getting dates again.
in my heart, i imagine that during this time, he is connected with a photographer who is looking for a model for their art exhibition. and gushing over steve's "unique" look and his "bravery" for continuing to be a model. steve feeling super uncomfortable bc he's so used to trying to bring attention away from his face.
and maybe that photographer focuses on his scars, inspired to tell a story of sorts through their photos. and steve's eye twitching because he feels like a specimen under a microscope, and the focus on his "imperfections" just causes him to spiral a little bit rather than builds his confidence.
and the demobats just take away the last thing he's been able to hold onto. they take away the last thing that could possibly give him value.
and YEAH the show so rarely shows the consequences of trauma, especially when it comes to steve. and it's such a shame that the scars seem to disappear at the start of every season. if season 5 shows steve with ANY scars, i would be immensely surprised (though i think i might not watch season 5...)
ALSO sudden thought: steve harrington's brain trauma leading to migraines, and the bright lights during shoots trigger them. but he's so determined to see this through and prove his worth that he soldiers through. he's popping as much tylenol he can, but he's cold sweating bc the pounding in his head is so intense. and every time he leaves a shoot, he's out of commission for at least a day afterwards.
and i respond to ur rant with a rant <3 BUT YEAH thank you for getting the vision...
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